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THE COUNTRY 

OF 

SIR WALTER SCOTT 



THE COUNTRY OF 
SIR WALTER SCOTT 

BY 

CHARLES S. OLCOTT 

Author of George Eliot: Scenes and People of Her Novels 

ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 
BY THE AUTHOR 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

1913 






COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY CHARLES S. OLCOTT 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE 
COPIES PRINTED AT THE RIVERSIDE 
PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS 
NUMBER X (o*-^si*>eri&r 



©CI.A351913 



TO 

MY WIFE 

THE COMPANION OF MY TRAVELS 

TO WHOSE SYMPATHETIC COOPERATION I AM 

INDEBTED FOR MUCH OF THE MATERIAL 

THIS BOOK 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 



CONTENTS 

Introduction xiii 

I. The 'Making' of Sir Walter i 

II. The Lay of the Last Minstrel . . .28 

III. Marmion 47 

IV. The Lady of the Lake " 66 

V. Rokeby 86 

VI. The Bridal of TriermaiN .... 96 

VII. The Lord of the Isles 100 

VIII. Waverley 106 

IX. Guy Mannering 126 

X. The Antiquary 145 

XI. The Black Dwarf 160 

XII. Old Mortality 166 

XIII. Rob Roy 182 

XIV. The Heart of Mddlothian . . . .199 
XV. The Bride of Lammermoor . . . .215 

XVI. A Legend of Montrose 224 

XVII. Ivanhoe 234 

XVIII. The Monastery 255 

XIX. The Abbot 265 

XX. Kenilworth 272 

vii 



CONTENTS 

XXI. The Pirate 290 

XXII. The Fortunes of Nigel . . . .316 

XXIII. Peveril or the Peak 328 

XXIV. Quentin Durward 337 

XXV. St. Ronan's Well 346 

XXVI. Redgauntlet 355 

XXVII. Tales or the Crusaders .... 365 

XXVIII. Woodstock 371 

XXIX. The Fair Maid of Perth . . . .378 
XXX. The Chronicles of the Canongate and 

Other Tales 387 

The Highland Widow .... 390 

The Two Drovers 390 

The Surgeon's Daughter . . . 391 
Anne of Geierstein .... 391 
Count Robert of Paris . . . 392 

Castle Dangerous 393 

XXXI. A Successful Life 395 

Index 407 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Portrait or Sir Walter Scott .... Frontispiece i 

Photogravure from an engraving by William Walker of a painting 
by Sir Henry Raeburn, R.A., 1822. 

Smailholm 2 

Kelso Abbey 6 , 

The Popping Stone 20, 

Lasswade Cottage 24V 

Map op Scotland 30 

Showing localities of Scott's writings 

St. Mary's Loch 34 

Branksome Hall 38 

Melrose Abbey 42 

ashestiel 48 

Entrance to Norham Castle 52 

Lindisfarne Abbey 56 

Tantallon Castle 60 

Loch Achray 68 

Cambusmore 72 / 

Glenpinglas 76' 

Stirling Castle 82 

Brackenbury Tower, Barnard Castle . . . .88 

The Valley of the Tees 94 

From Barnard Castle 

The Valley of St. John 98 

Showing Triermain Castle Rock 

Turnberry Castle, Coast of Ayrshire .... 104 / 

Grandtully Castle nof 

ix 



ILLUSTRATIONS 
Doune Castle 120 / 

From the Teith 

Ullswater 124 J 

Waverley's retreat after the defeat of the Chevalier 

Caerlaverock Castle 128 „■ 

Edinburgh from the Castle 142,; 

Auchmithie 156 . 

The Black Dwarf's Cottage 162 4 

Craignethan Castle (Tillietudlem) 172 

Crichope Linn 178 J 

Chillingham Castle 190^ 

Loch Lomond from Inversnaid 196 

St. Anthony's Chapel 210 - 

j 

Crichton Castle 222 

Loch Lubnaig . 230. 

Map of England 234 

Showing localities of Scott's writings 

Castle of Ashby de la Zouch ....... 236*' 

The Buck-Gate 238 

Entrance to the Duke of Portland's estate, Sherwood Forest 
The Avenue of Limes, Sherwood Forest .... 240 v 

Interior of Fountains Abbey 244^ 

Coningsburgh Castle 248 

Cathcart Castle 270 

Leicester's Buildings, Kenilworth 274 . 

Cesar's Tower, Kenilworth 278 

Entrance to Warwick Castle 282 

Mervyn's Tower, Kenilworth 286 

Lerwick, Shetland 292 

A Crofter's Cottage, Orkney 294 

Sumburgh Head, Shetland 298 

x 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Scalloway, Shetland 302,, 

The Standing Stones of Stennis 310 * 

Stromness, Orkney 314 

Map op London 318 . 

Showing localities of Scott's writings 

The Pack-Horse Bridge, Haddon Hall .... 330 

The Saxon Tower, Isle of Man 334 * 

The Tweed and Eildon Hills ...'.... 348* 

Scott's Tomb, Dryburgh 352 ^ 

Hoddam Castle 360- 

Powis Castle, Wales 368- 

Godstow Priory 374 

Burial-place of ' The Fair Rosamond 

Loch Tay 380. 

House of the Fair Maid of Perth 384. 

Abbotsford 396 ■ 

Scott Monument, Edinburgh 404 » 



INTRODUCTION 

On the first day of May, 1911, we began our exploration 
of the ' Scott Country.' I say we, because I was accom- 
panied by the companion of a much longer journey, 
of which that year was the twenty-fifth milestone. 
Whether from reasons of sentiment resulting from the 
near approach of our silver anniversary, or because of 
more prosaic geographical considerations, we began at 
the place where Walter Scott discovered that he would 
be likely to see more of the beauty of life if he were 
equipped with two pairs of eyes rather than one. This 
was at the village of Gilsland, in the north of England, 
where the poet first met the companion who was to share 
the joys and sorrows of the best years of his life. A pony 
and dogcart took us clattering up to the top of the hill, 
where, leaving our conveyance, we started down the 
glen to the banks of the river Irthing. Here the camera 
promptly responded to the call of a beautiful view and 
the first exposure was made: — a gently flowing stream 
of shallow water, scarcely covering the rocky bed of the 
river; a pleasant path along the bank, well shaded from 
the sun; and a slender little waterfall in the distance; — 
the same scene which so often met the eyes of Walter 
Scott and his future bride as they strolled along the 
stream in their 'courting' days. 

This was the beginning of a tour which eventually led 
into nearly every county of Scotland, as far north as the 
Shetland Islands, and through a large part of England 

xiii 



INTRODUCTION 

and Wales. We went wherever we thought we might 
find a beautiful or an interesting picture, connected in 
some way with the life of Sir Walter, or mentioned by 
him in some novel or poem. Knowing that he had 
derived his inspiration from an intimate knowledge of 
the country, we sought to follow his footsteps so far as 
possible. Months of preparation had been devoted to 
the work before leaving home. Every novel and poem 
had to be read, besides many books of reference, includ- 
ing, of course, Lockhart's Life, for it would not have been 
safe to trust to the recollections of earlier reading. Notes 
were made of the places to be sought, and two large 
maps were prepared on which I marked circles with a red 
pencil around all points which I thought ought to be 
visited, until my maps began to look as though they 
were suffering from a severe attack of measles. Then 
the route was laid out by 'centres.' The first was Car- 
lisle, then Dumfries, Melrose, Edinburgh, Berwick, 
Glasgow, Stirling, Callander, the Trossachs, Oban, and 
so on until the entire country had been covered. From 
each 'centre' as a convenient point of departure we 
explored the country in many directions, visiting so far 
as possible every scene of the novels and poems that 
could be identified. 

It was surprising to find so many of these scenes 
exactly as Sir Walter had described them. The moun- 
tains and valleys, the rivers, lakes, and waterfalls, the 
wild ruggedness of the seaside cliffs, the quaint little 
old-fashioned villages, the ruined castles and abbeys, all 
brought back memories of the romances which he had so 
charmingly set amidst these scenes. It was like actually 
living the Waverley Novels to see them. And in seeing 

xiv 



INTRODUCTION 

them, we came to know, on intimate terms, Sir Walter 
himself; to feel the genial influence of his presence as if 
he were a fellow traveller, and to love him as his com- 
panions had done a century ago. 

But our constant purpose was to do more than this. 
With the help of the camera we sought to catch some- 
thing of the spirit of the scenery and to bring it home 
with us, in the hope that those who have never seen the 
' Scott Country ' might at least have a few glimpses of it, 
and that those who have seen all or a part of it, might 
find in these views a pleasant reminder of what must 
have been a happy experience. 

There is no occasion to add at the present time to the 
volume of literary criticism of such well-known novels 
and poems as those of Scott, nor is it possible to add 
any material facts to his biography. This book makes 
no such claim. It does not attempt to retell the ro- 
mances, except in so far as may be necessary to explain 
their connexion with the scenery or to introduce the 
'original' of some well-known character. If a glimpse 
of the novelist's genial face is seen now and then, it is 
because his spirit pervades every nook and corner of 
bonnie Scotland, and it would be impossible for appre- 
ciative eyes to view the scenery without seeing some- 
thing of the man whose genius has added so greatly to 
its charm. 

If this book shall add to the pleasure of any of the 
readers of Sir Walter Scott by bringing them into the 
atmosphere of his novels and poems, and so a little 
nearer to the kindly personality of the man, its purpose 
will have been fulfilled. 



THE COUNTRY 
OF SIR WALTER SCOTT 

CHAPTER I 

THE ' MAKING ' OF SIR WALTER 

'He was makin' himsel' a' the time, but he didna ken 
maybe what he was about till years had passed; at first 
he thought o' little, I dare say, but the queerness and 
the fun.' 

In these expressive words, Robert Shortreed, who 
guided Walter Scott on the celebrated 'raids' into the 
Liddesdale country, correctly summarized the youth 
and early manhood of the future poet and novelist. 
Scott was thirty-four years old when the 'Lay of the 
Last Minstrel' appeared, and had reached the mature 
age of forty-three before he published the first of the 
Waverley Novels. But from early childhood he was 
busily engaged, with more or less conscious purpose, in 
gathering the materials for his future work. 

It is the purpose of this chapter to show, by a brief 
survey of these preparatory years, how he acquired that 
intimate knowledge of human nature that enabled him 
to record so truthfully and with such real sympathy the 
thoughts and feelings, the hopes and fears, the manners 
of life, the dress, the conversation, and the personal 
peculiarities of people of every degree, from Mary, 
Queen of Scots, to Meg Merrilies, the Queen of the 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Gipsies; from the lordly Earl of Montrose down to the 
humblest of the Children of the Mist. It will also aim 
to suggest something of the method by which he learned 
to paint such charming pictures of ancient castles and 
ruined abbeys, of princes' palaces and fishermen's 
cottages, of rocky shores and wild paths through the 
woods, of rivers, lakes, and mountains, and all the other 
elements that make up the varied and beautiful scenery 
of Scotland and England. 

In the hilly country south of Edinburgh, standing 
alone on a high rock, is an old feudal tower called Smail- 
holm. Outlined against the western sky, in the glow of 
a summer sunset, it seemed to us like a proud and beau- 
tiful capital letter 'I,' saying with some emphasis on the 
personal pronoun, l I am a thing of some importance.' 
We forgave the egotism, for the old tower really is im- 
portant, marking the very beginning of Walter Scott's 
career, the spot where he received his first poetic im- 
pulse. Here at the age of three years, he rolled about on 
the rocks with the sheep and lambs as if he were one of 
them. He had been brought to Sandy Knowe, the home 
of his grandfather, in an effort to save his life, for he had 
been a sickly child, and six brothers and sisters had died 
in infancy, so that his parents were naturally more than 
anxious. The life out of doors soon brought a marked 
improvement, and except for the lameness, which never 
left him, the boy became healthy and vigorous. He was 
attended by an old shepherd, known as the 'cow-bailie,' 
who had a great fund of Border stories, to which the lad 
listened eagerly. 

A devoted aunt, Miss Janet Scott, who lived at the 
farm, often read to him stories of Bible heroes and of the 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

great men of Scottish history. From a few volumes of 
miscellaneous poetry which the family chanced to own, 
she read some Scottish ballads which quickly seized 
upon his childish fancy. He was especially fond of his- 
torical tales, and under the shadow of the old tower he 
used to marshal the armies of Scotland and England, 
fighting their battles with mimic forces of pebbles and 
shells, and always ending the conflict with the complete 
rout of the English and the triumph of the Scottish 
arms. One day he was missed during a violent thunder- 
storm, and the household set out in search of him. He 
was found lying on his back on the rocks, kicking his 
heels in the air and clapping his hands with delight as 
he watched the vivid lightning ; and as one flash followed 
another, each more brilliant than the one before, he 
would shout, 'Bonnie! Bonnie!! Dae it again! Dae it 
again!' I like to think of this scene as symbolic; as a 
prophecy of the time, soon to come, when the lad, grown 
to manhood, would be sending out flash after flash of 
his genius while the whole world looked on in delight, 
shouting, 'Bonnie! Bonnie! ! Dae it again! Dae it 
again!' 

How much the old tower of Smailholm really had to 
do with Scott's earliest poetic fancy he has himself told 
in a touching reference in the Introduction to the Third 
Canto of ' Marmion' : — 

And still I thought that shattered tower 
The mightiest work of human power, 
And marvelled as the aged hind 
With some strange tale bewitched my mind. 

He made it the setting of one of his earliest poems, 'The 
Eve of St. John,' and probably had it in mind, when 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

writing 'The Monastery' and 'The Abbot/ as the orig- 
inal of Avenel Castle. Smailholm was once surrounded 
by water, all of which has been drained off except a very 
small portion on the eastern side. With the addition of 
the original lake it would make a very good prototype 
of Avenel. 

At the age of six, Scott was taken for a visit to Pres- 
tonpans, where he made the acquaintance of George 
Constable, the original of Monkbarns in 'The Anti- 
quary.' This statement should be qualified, however, 
for Scott himself was the real 'Antiquary' in many 
ways. None but a genuine antiquarian could ever have 
written that keen bit of humorous characterization. 
This old gentleman, besides giving Scott his first knowl- 
edge of Shakespeare, told him many excellent stories of 
the 'affair of 1745' and of the battle of Prestonpans. 
Here he also made the acquaintance of an old man who 
had seen much service in the German wars and who was 
delighted to find a good listener to his tales of military 
feats. Under the guidance of this old soldier, whose 
name, Dalgetty, subsequently reappears in 'A Legend 
of Montrose,' he explored the battle-field, heard the 
story of Colonel Gardiner's death, and found the grave 
of 'Balmawhapple,' 'where the grass grew rank and 
green, distinguishing it from the rest of the field.' This 
was in 1777, when Scott was only six. Thirty-seven 
years later these early impressions found a place in 
'Waverley.' 

At about the same period young Walter was presented 
with a Shetland pony, an animal not so large as a full- 
grown Newfoundland dog. He soon learned to ride, and 
often frightened his Aunt Jenny by dashing recklessly 



THE 'MAKING* OF SIR WALTER 

over the rocks about the tower. The importance of the 
event lies in the fact that it was the beginning of Scott's 
fondness for horseback riding, his proficiency in which 
played an important part in later years, enabling him to 
gather valuable material that would not otherwise have 
been accessible. Scott's father now thought best to bring 
him back to Edinburgh, where he lived the life of an 
average schoolboy, with this difference, that his lame- 
ness frequently confined him to the house, compelling 
him to seek his amusement in books instead of romping 
with his fellows in George's Square. At twelve years, 
and again a little later, he went for a vacation visit to his 
Aunt Jenny, — Miss Janet Scott, — who was then 
living at Kelso in a small house, pleasantly situated in 
a garden of seven or eight acres, 'full of long straight 
walks, between hedges of yew and hornbeam' and 
'thickets of flowery shrubs.' The Grammar School of 
Kelso was attached to the old Abbey. Here he met the 
two men who, though lifelong friends, were destined to 
bring to Walter Scott the saddest experience of his 
career — James and John Ballantyne, the publishers, 
whose failure clouded the last years of the novelist's 
life, forcing upon him the payment of a debt of £i 1 7,000, 
— a task which he manfully assumed, and wore out his 
life in the execution of it. Another school fellow here 
was Robert Waldie, whose mother showed Scott many 
attentions. It was through his association with 'Lady 
Waldie,' who was a member of the Society of Friends, 
that Scott in subsequent years was enabled to paint the 
lovely picture of the home life at Mount Sharon of 
Joshua Geddes and his sister, which adds so much to the 
pleasure of 'Redgauntlet.' 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

An old vault in Kelso Abbey was used as the village 
prison — the kind of a jail which Edie Ochiltree thought 
'wasna so dooms bad a place as it was ca'd.' No doubt 
the real Edie was often confined here. He was an old 
mendicant, well known in the neighbourhood, by the 
name of Andrew Gemmels. Scott met him often. Many 
curious stories are related of his eccentricities. He was 
once presented with a good suit of clothes which he 
thankfully accepted. The friendly donor chanced to 
meet him later in the day, dragging the clothes behind 
him along the road through the dirt and mud. Being 
asked why he treated the gift in that way he replied that 
he would have ' to trail the duds that way for twa days, 
to mak them jit for use.' 

A few miles southeast of Kelso, in the village of Kirk 
Yetholm, Scott picked up another of his most famous 
characters — the picturesque Meg Merrilies. Kirk 
Yetholm was in Scott's boyhood, and even later in his 
life, the headquarters of a large gipsy tribe. Such a 
people could not fail to interest one of his temperament 
and he soon came to know them on familiar terms. The 
Queen of the Gipsies introduced herself by giving him 
an apple. She was a woman of extraordinary height, 
dressed in a long red cloak, who naturally inspired the 
boy with a feeling of awe. Her name was Madge Gor- 
don, a granddaughter of Jean Gordon, the most famous 
of the Gipsies. Jean's history was well known. She was 
an ardent Jacobite, and met her death at Carlisle in 
1746, in a most inhuman fashion, being drowned by a 
mob in the river Eden. She was a powerful woman and 
as the men struggled to keep her head under the water, 
she kept coming to the surface, each time screaming, 

6 




KELSO ABBEY 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

'Charlie yet! Charlie yet!' Scott as a child of ten heard 
her story and cried piteously for old Jean Gordon. She 
was the real Meg Merrilies. 

During his frequent visits to Kelso and subsequent 
residence at Rosebank, near by, Scott explored the 
country in every direction. He rode over the battle- 
field of Flodden, becoming convinced that 'never was 
an affair more completely bungled.' He explored the 
heights of Branxton Hill, and riding through the village 
of Coldstream, passed the old town of Lennel, where 
Marmion paused on the eve of the battle. Then recross- 
ing the river, he came to Twisel Bridge, and following 
the course of the Tweed, reached the ruins of Norham 
Castle, where Marmion was entertained by Sir Hugh 
Heron. This was an old Border fortress which passed 
from Scottish to English hands and back again for sev- 
eral centuries. Thus, without conscious effort, Scott 
laid the foundation for 'Marmion' early in life, though 
the poem did not take final shape until nearly twenty 
years later. 

When not spending his vacations in the country, Scott 
was attending the college in Edinburgh and later pre- 
paring himself for the practice of the law. During all 
these years the gathering of materials for his future 
writings continued. A favourite companion of the days 
in Edinburgh was John Irving. On Saturdays, or more 
frequently during vacations, the two used to borrow 
three or four books from the circulating library and 
walk to Salisbury Crags, climb high up to some se- 
questered nook and read the books together. After 
continuing this practice for two years, during which 
they devoured a prodigious number of volumes, Scott 

7 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

proposed that they should make up adventures of their 
favourite knights-errant, and recite them to each other 
alternately — a pastime in which Scott greatly excelled 
his companion. At this time the former began to collect 
old ballads, and as Irving's mother knew a great many, 
he used to go to her and learn all she could repeat. Salis- 
bury Crags and Arthur's Seat found their way into 
'Waverley,' and later, with St. Leonard's Hill, in the 
same vicinity, became the background for the earlier 
chapters of the 'Heart of Midlothian.' The ruins of St. 
Anthony's Chapel, on the ascent to Arthur's Seat, must 
have been one of these favourite nooks. Blackford Hill, 
the third of these resorts, lies south of Edinburgh. Here 
Scott carried Marmion for that superb view of Edin- 
burgh, 'mine own romantic town/ so well described in 
the poem: — 

Still on the spot Lord Marmion stayed, 
For fairer scene he ne'er surveyed. 

The scene is still a beautiful one, for though the plain 
that held the Scottish camp is now filled with well- 
built suburban homes, we still may see 

Yon Empress of the North 
Sit on her hilly throne, 
Her palace's imperial bowers, 
Her castle, proof to hostile powers, 
Her stately halls and holy towers. 

So great was Scott's love of the picturesque and espec- 
ially of the old feudal castles that he yearned to become 
a painter. But it was of no use. His lessons came to 
naught and he could make no progress. Perhaps this 
was fortunate, for, as Lockhart points out, success with 
the pencil might have interfered with his future great- 

8 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

ness as a 'painter with the pen.' At fifteen, Scott entered 
upon an apprenticeship to his father as a writer's 
(lawyer's) clerk, during which period he formed an inti- 
mate companionship with a relative of his friend Irving, 
William Clerk, a young man of good intellect and many 
accomplishments. The experiences of these two young 
law students will be found in 'Redgauntlet.' William 
Clerk was the Darsie Latimer of that story, while Scott 
himself was Alan Fairford. Alan's precise and digni- 
fied father, Mr. Saunders Fairford, whose highest hope 
in life was to see his son attain 'the proudest of all 
distinctions — the rank and fame of a well-employed 
lawyer,' was a fairly good portrait of Scott's own father. 
The house in which the Fairfords lived was in Brown 
Square, then considered 'an extremely elegant improve- 
ment.' It is still standing, and is now used as a dental 
college. Old 'Peter Peebles,' whose interminable lawsuit 
was used for young lawyers to practise on, actually 
existed and haunted the law courts at this time. Scott 
himself admits that he took his turn as 'counsel' to the 
grotesque old litigant. 

The Edinburgh of Scott's day was still chiefly con- 
fined to the Old Town. High Street in those days was 
considered the most magnificent street in the world. 
Again and again Scott refers to it. At one end is the 
great Castle, old enough to remember the time when 
even the Old Town did not exist. Lower down is St. 
Giles and the Parliament House. Next to St. Giles is 
the site of the Old Tolbooth, which, after serving the 
city as a prison for two hundred and fifty years, was 
pulled down in 1817. In Writer's Court in the same 
locality was the tavern where the lawyers held 'high 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

jinks' in 'Guy Mannering.' Greyfriars Church, where 
Colonel Mannering heard a sermon by Scott's old 
friend, the Rev. John Erskine, is not far off. Down the 
street, in the part called the Canongate, is the house of 
the Earl of Murray, the Regent of Scotland in Queen 
Mary's time, who figures prominently in 'The Abbot.' 
Street fighting was a common occurrence in Edinburgh 
in those days and there is a good description of such a 
broil in 'The Abbot.' 'My Lord Seton's Lodging,' 
where Roland Graeme took refuge after a scrimmage, is 
in the same street, and a little farther on is the 'White 
Horse Close,' where the officers of Prince Charles made 
their headquarters in ' Waverley.' Holyrood Palace is at 
the extreme end of the street, about a mile from the 
Castle. The great ball, which Scott describes in 'Wav- 
erley,' was given here by the young Chevalier, Charles 
Edward Stuart, on the evening of September 17, 1745. 
While still in his fifteenth year, Scott made his first 
excursion into the Highlands of Perthshire through 
scenery unsurpassed in natural beauty by any other 
region in all Scotland. Approaching from the south, he 
rode over the mountains, through a pass no longer acces- 
sible, known as the Wicks of Baiglie. Here 'he beheld, 
stretching beneath him, the valley of the Tay, traversed 
by its ample and lordly stream; the town of Perth, with 
its two large meadows, or Inches, its steeples and its 
towers : the hills of Moncreiff and Kinnoul faintly rising 
into picturesque rocks, partly clothed with woods; the 
rich margin of the river, studded with elegant mansions ; 
and the distant view of the huge Grampian Mountains, 
the northern screen of this exquisite landscape.' These 
words were written as part of the Introduction to the 

10 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

'Fair Maid of Perth' in 1828. The impression they 
record was made upon the mind of a boy of fifteen, forty- 
two years earlier. On this visit, no doubt, he saw the 
original house of Simon Glover in Curfew Street, and also 
the home of Hal o' the Wynd, not far away. Both houses 
still remain, and the stories connected with them were 
of course current in Scott's time. 

During all the time that the scenes and the stories 
connected with this and other excursions were making 
their impress upon the mind of Walter Scott, it must be 
remembered that he was not thinking of any ultimate 
use of them in literature, but was only ambitious to 
make a success of his chosen profession of the law. It so 
happened that one of the earliest duties which fell to his 
lot as a writer's apprentice was to serve a writ upon a 
certain obstreperous family in the Braes of Balquhidder, 
the country made famous by the exploits of Rob Roy. 
Fearing that the execution of the summons would be 
resisted, an escort of a sergeant and six men was pro- 
cured, and Scott, a young man of . scarcely sixteen, 
marched into the Highlands, 'riding,' as he said, 'in all 
the dignity of danger, with a front and rear guard, and 
loaded arms.' The sergeant was full of good stories, 
principally about Rob Roy, and proved to be a very 
good companion. This expedition was Scott's first 
introduction to the scenery around Loch Katrine, which 
later owed most of its fame to his pen. It enabled him, 
by actual contact with the Highland clans, to learn for 
the first time some of the thrilling tales with which the 
region abounded and to become familiar with the 
habits, the speech, the dress, and all the other marked 
characteristics of a romantic people. The delightful 

11 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

scenery of Loch Vennachar, Loch Achray, and Loch 
Katrine, the rugged slopes of Ben Venue and Ben An, 
the more distant peaks of Ben Lomond and Ben Ledi, 
the tangled masses of foliage in the ' deep Trossachs' 
wildest nook,' — all appealed at once to the artistic sense 
within him, to his poetic feeling, and to his love of 
nature. 'The Lady of the Lake' was not written until 
twenty-three years later, but the germ of that poem was 
planted in his bosom by this first youthful experience 
and its writing was only a labor of love. 

On his subsequent excursions to the Highlands, Scott 
gathered some valuable material which later appeared 
in 'Waverley.' He found one old gentleman who had 
been obliged to make a journey to the cave of Rob Roy, 
where he dined on 'collops' or steaks, cut from his own 
cattle. This cavern is on Loch Lomond in the midst of 
most beautiful scenery. Scott makes it the retreat of 
Donald Bean Lean in 'Waverley,' but does not refer to 
it in his story of 'Rob Roy.' From another aged gentle- 
man he heard the history of Doune Castle, a fine old 
ruin on the river Teith, near Stirling, and this he also 
introduced into 'Waverley.' The story of Waverley 's 
saving the life of Colonel Talbot and the death at Car- 
lisle of Fergus Maclvor are based upon incidents related 
to Scott at this time. 

Among the many places visited was Craighall, in 
Perthshire, from which some of the features of Tully 
Veolan were copied. The situation of this country-seat 
was convenient for the story, and near by was a cave, 
similar to that in which the Baron of Bradwardine 
sought concealment. But there is another house, a little 
to the west, on the river Tay, which is said to correspond 

12 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

even more closely with Scott's description. This is 
Grandtully Castle, the beautiful estate of the Stewart 
family. Another house which entered into this com- 
posite picture was the residence of the Earl of Traquair, 
a place on the Scottish Border well known to Scott and 
frequently visited by him during the time when he was 
writing 'Waverley.' It has a curious entrance gate, 
surmounted by some queer-looking bears, which doubt- 
less suggested the Bears of Bradwardine. 

These numerous excursions, however fruitful they 
may have proved in later years, were not by any means 
the chief business of Scott's life at this time. They were 
only vacation trips, except the first, which seems to have 
had a business purpose. He was for the most part hard 
at work in Edinburgh in the study of the law and in the 
duties of a writer's apprentice, which meant copying by 
hand page after page of legal documents, sometimes 
accomplishing as much as a hundred and twenty pages 
in one day. In 1792, at the age of twenty-one, he suc- 
cessfully passed the law examinations and was admitted 
to the Bar, very much to his father's delight. The real 
Alan Fairford and Darsie Latimer 'put on the gown' the 
same day, a solemn ceremony followed by a jolly dinner 
to their companions. 

Scott was now a fine, handsome young fellow with a 
host of friends. The sickliness of childhood had given 
way to a robust and vigorous manhood. His lameness 
still remained, but in spite of this he had acquired the 
frame of a young athlete. He was tall, well formed, big- 
chested, and powerful. His complexion was fresh and 
even brilliant; his eyes were bright and twinkling with 
fun; there was a queer little look about his lips as though 

13 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

they were about to break out into some funny remark — 
an expression that was the delight of all his friends and 
the despair of portrait painters. Perhaps the most 
striking feature of his face was the high forehead, be- 
speaking intellectual power and dignity, yet in perfect 
consonance with his good humour and affectionate 
kindliness. In every company of young people he was 
easily the life and soul of the group. They crowded 
around him to revel in his store of anecdotes and ballads 
a propos to every occasion, and his jokes usually kept 
them in a gale of merriment. He was fond of every kind 
of outdoor amusement, especially of fishing, hunting, 
and riding. Few could excel him in horsemanship, 
either in skill or endurance. From the days of his first 
Shetland pony he had loved horses, and but for his 
ability to make long journeys on horseback to remote 
regions at a time when there were no railways and few 
coach-roads, he would have been unable to acquire the 
knowledge of places and people which gave a peculiar 
charm to all his writings. 

The day after his admission to the Bar, Scott 'es- 
caped' to the country, going first to Rosebank and then 
to Jedburgh, where he met Robert Shortreed, a sheriff- 
substitute of Roxburghshire, who consented to become 
his guide on a visit to the wild and inaccessible district 
of Liddesdale. For seven successive years they made 
these 'raids' as Scott called them, 'exploring every 
rivulet to its source and every ruined peel from founda- 
tion to battlement.' 'There was no inn or public-house 
of any kind in the whole valley; the travellers passed 
from the shepherd's hut to the minister's manse, and 
again from the cheerful hospitality of the manse to the 

14 



THE ' MAKING ' OF SIR WALTER 

rough and jolly welcome of the homestead; gathering, 
wherever they went, songs and tunes, and occasionally 
more tangible relics of antiquity.' To his friendly 
familiarity with these unsophisticated people and the 
intimate knowledge thus acquired of their manner of 
living, we are indebted for some of the most charming 
pages of 'Guy Mannering.' Whether the future poet 
had any plan in his mind for using the material so gath- 
ered is doubtful, though much of it went into the 
i Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border' and perhaps these 
raids suggested that undertaking. 

In the summer vacation of 1797, Scott set out for a 
visit to the English Lakes. He was accompanied by his 
brother John and Adam Ferguson, an intimate friend 
through whom he had been introduced to the highest 
literary circles of Edinburgh. Their first stop was at the 
country home of Dr. Ferguson, the distinguished philos- 
opher and historian, and the father of Scott's friend. 
This was at Hallyards, in the vale of Manor Water, near 
Peebles. The venerable old gentleman, then in his 
seventy-third year, had become interested in one of the 
strangest men, physically and mentally, who ever 
lived, — a poor, ungainly, and hideous dwarf named 
David Ritchie. Dr. Ferguson conducted his young 
friend to the rude hut of this horrible being, and Scott, 
strong and fearless as he was, is said to have come away 
as pale as ashes and shaking in every limb. This singular 
meeting resulted, nineteen years later, in the story of 
'The Black Dwarf,' where Scott skilfully combined some 
good traits, which Ritchie was known to possess, with 
the grotesque and terrifying external figure. 

Proceeding to the English Lakes, Scott now saw for the 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

first time the wild and rugged beauty of Saddleback and 
Skiddaw and the desolate loneliness of Helvellyn, con- 
trasting with the calm loveliness of Grasmere and Win- 
dermere and with the sweet homeliness of the dalesmen's 
cottages, their pastures and peaceful flocks. Like all 
other scenes of beauty, it made its impression upon his 
mind. He found a home here for Colonel Mannering; 
when Waverley was hard-pressed after the failure of the 
insurrection of 1745, he found it convenient to make a 
home for his hero with a farmer at Ullswater; and he 
marched his gallant Baron of Triermain into ' the narrow 
Valley of St. John' in search of the mysterious castle, as 
directed by the sage of Lyulph's tower. The tower of 
Lyulph may be seen near the shores of Ullswater, and 
on the side of a hill rising above St. John's Beck, a little 
stream flowing out of Lake Thirlmere, is a huge rock 
now called 'Triermain Castle,' which at a distance, under 
certain conditions of the atmosphere, bears a fancied 
resemblance to the phantom castle of the poem. 

Scott frequently showed his profound admiration for 
the English Lake district, and if he did not love it with 
all the devotion of his friend Wordsworth, it was only 
because his own beloved Highlands had a prior claim 
upon his affections. 

On a summer day soon after his return from the Lake 
District, in the same year, Scott and his friend Adam 
Ferguson were riding together along a country road near 
the pleasant little village of Gilsland, in the north of 
England. The former was then twenty-six years of age. 
He was a tall man of athletic frame, who rode as though 
incapable of fatigue. There was a peculiar grace and 
charm in both face and figure, which almost irresistibly 

16 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

caused a passer-by to follow his first glance with a second 
and longer scrutiny. 

As they rode along, the two companions chanced to 
pass a young lady, also on horseback, who immediately 
attracted their notice. Her form was like that of a fairy, 
light and full of grace. Her long silken tresses were jet 
black, her complexion a clear olive, and her eyes a lovely 
brown, large, deep-set, and brilliant. Young and viva- 
cious, with a natural air of gaiety, she was both pleasant 
to meet and charming to look upon. 

At the ball which took place in the evening there was 
much rivalry among the young men for the honour of 
dancing with this vision of loveliness, who had blotted 
out all other thoughts from their morning ride. To the 
tall young man fell the privilege of taking the fair 
stranger to supper, and this was the introduction of 
Walter Scott to Miss Charlotte Margaret Carpenter. 
The evening of September 30, immediately following the 
ball, was one of the happiest Scott ever knew. A friend 
records that he 'was sair beside himself about Miss 
Carpenter; — we toasted her twenty times over — and 
sat together, he raving about her until it was one in the 
morning.' 

This was not Scott's first love affair, but it was equally 
genuine. Some four years previously he had chanced to 
meet at the Greyfriars Church in Edinburgh, a very 
charming young lady of seventeen. As the Sunday ser- 
vice closed, an unexpected shower came up. Scott had 
an umbrella and the lady had none — sufficient reason 
for escorting the fair one to her home. There was also 
sufficient reason for falling in love with her, for Miss 
Williamina Stuart was not only beautiful in face and 

17 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

figure, but lovely in character. Highly educated, accom- 
plished in music and painting, well versed in literature, 
and with the best family connections, she was still a 
sweet girl, of charming manners and no affectation. For 
three years Scott cherished the most ardent feelings of 
love, but in silence. He was then a young man of small 
worldly prospects. He had written nothing and was 
unknown outside the circle of friends in the law courts, 
where he was but a beginner. This, however, would not 
have been an insurmountable difficulty had the love 
been mutual. But the young lady had already given 
her heart unreservedly to an intimate friend of Scott's, 
William Forbes, a man of noble character. She gave 
Scott no encouragement, but frequently, wrote him in 
a friendly way, chiefly concerning literary topics. 
After many months of patient restraint, Scott finally 
wrote her a frank and unreserved declaration of his 
feelings, and received in reply a letter which filled him 
with many forebodings but with 'new admiration of her 
generosity and candour.' She urged upon him the con- 
tinuation of their simple friendship as the 'prudent line 
of conduct.' Unfortunately, Scott read between the 
lines, as too hopeful persons sometimes do, sentiments 
which were not intended. The final disappointment 
came in the autumn of 1796, and in the following Jan- 
uary Miss Stuart became the bride of Walter Scott's 
successful rival. It is pleasant to think that the success 
of the one and the disappointment of the other led to no 
bitterness. Both were men of noble and generous minds. 
And in the days of Scott's adversity, when he was wear- 
ing away his vitality in a desperate but honourable 
endeavour to pay his debts, Sir William Forbes, though 

18 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

his own bank was one of the heavy losers in the disaster 
that overwhelmed Scott, came forward with offers of 
assistance, and even went so far as to pay secretly a 
large and pressing debt, that his friend Sir Walter might 
not be entirely crushed. 

The poet never forgot the tender experiences of 
these years, and long afterward drew a lovely picture 
of Williamina in 'Rokeby': — 

Wreathed in its dark brown rings, her hair 
Half hid Matilda's forehead fair, 
Half hid and half revealed to view 
Her full dark eye of hazel hue. 
The rose, with faint and feeble streak, 
So lightly tinged the maiden's cheek, 
That you had said her hue was pale: 
But if she faced the summer gale, 
Or spoke, or sung, or quicker moved, 
Or heard the praise of those she loved, 
The mantling blood in ready play 
Rivalled the blush of rising day. 

But Walter Scott was a young man, and in his great 
big heart there was still room for love. If he thought his 
heart was broken, he admitted that it was 'handsomely 
pieced' again. Fascinated with the vivacity and attrac- 
tiveness of Miss Carpenter, Scott remained at Gilsland 
much longer than he had intended. The lovers strolled 
through many delightful paths — walks which left their 
impress upon the poet's mind and gave him many back- 
grounds for his future verses and tales. 

Miss Carpenter had rooms at a large hotel, known as 
Shaw's, where the momentous ball was held, and Scott 
was at Wardrew House, a private residence with a 
picturesque walled-in garden on the slope of a hill not 
far away. We followed them in fancy as they descended 

19 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

into the glen which separates these two houses, where 
they might drink of the mineral spring which gives a 
local fame to the place. Then like the faithful page of 
the Baron of Triermain, no doubt they 'crossed green 
Irthing's Mead' and wandering along the shady bank of 
this pleasant stream, reached 

the favourite glade, 
Paled in by copsewood, cliff and stone, 

Where never harsher sounds invade 
To break affection's whispering tone 

Than the deep breeze that waves the shade, 
Than the small brooklet's feeble moan. 

Then, turning a bend in the stream, perchance he in- 
vited her to 

Come! rest thee on thy wonted seat; 

Mossed is the stone, the turf is green, 
A place where lovers best may meet 

Who would not that their love be seen. 

Here is the so-called 'Popping Stone,' where, local tradi- 
tion asserts, Scott asked the all-important question. 
Whether this is true or not makes no difference. The 
question was asked and the stone is there. Whatever 
virtue there may be in the stone, it is certain that thou- 
sands of young couples have found their way thither, 
and they have literally worn it away until now it is 
scarcely half its original size. 

A little farther west we came to the beautiful old 
ruins of Lanercost, in which is the tomb of Thomas, Lord 
Dacre, to whom Marmion, with his last dying gasp on 
the field of Flodden, sent a message with his signet ring. 
Near by and entered through a beautiful park is the fine 
old feudal castle of Naworth, the stronghold of the 

20 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

Dacres and later of the Howards, both of whom are 
mentioned in 'The Lay of the Last Minstrel.' 

The place which seems to have interested Scott the 
most in these rambles was the old ruined wall of Trier- 
main Castle. He saw more of it than can be seen to-day, 
for a great part of it remained standing until 1832. But 
it was a ruin in the time of Queen Elizabeth. Scott's 
imagination, however, soon rebuilt and repeopled it, and 
Sir Ronald de Vaux became immortalized in 'The 
Bridal of Triermain,' though forgotten in the pages of 
history. In almost the latest years of his life, the novel- 
ist came back to these scenes of his early manhood for 
another character whom he took from the same old 
castle of Triermain, the big and burly, but always 
faithful, Sir Thomas de Multon of 'The Talisman.' 

During the autumn of 1797, Scott was a frequent visi- 
tor to the city of Carlisle, where Miss Carpenter was 
living in Castle Street. A few steps beyond the site of 
her house is Carlisle Cathedral, the most striking fea- 
ture of which is the beautiful East Window, said to be 
the finest in England. The cathedral was founded by 
Henry I in 1101. During the Civil War it was occupied 
by soldiers, who pulled down ninety-six feet of the nave 
to build fortifications. The portion that remained, thirty- 
nine feet, was later enclosed and used as the parish 
Church of St. Mary. Here, standing between two great 
Norman pillars of red sandstone, on the day before 
Christmas, 1797, Walter Scott and Charlotte Carpenter 
were married. 

They went to live in Edinburgh, but during the fol- 
lowing summer took up their abode in a charming little 
cottage with a thatched roof and a delightful garden on 

21 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

the banks of the river Esk at Lasswade. It was then a 
small house with only one room of fair size, though now 
very much enlarged. The thatched portion, however, is 
carefully preserved. Mrs. Scott's good taste and her 
husband's enthusiasm soon converted the house and 
grounds into a veritable bower of delight. Unfortun- 
ately, the rustic archway of ivy, which Scott took so 
much pleasure in fashioning, has disappeared. But the 
vale of the Esk still remains, to thrill the souls of the 
romantic. Not even in lovely Scotland is there a river 
or glen to surpass it. Deep down between precipitous 
cliffs and rocks, shaded by tali trees and overgrown by a 
bewildering profusion of creeping plants and overhang- 
ing vines, the little river flows merrily along, seeming to 
sparkle at every bend with some new recollection of the 
romantic legends or fantastic tales of the barons of old, 
who once peopled its ancient castles and drank their 
wine while they listened to the rhythmic stories of the 
minstrel bards. Here six happy summers were spent. 
Friends came down from Edinburgh and new friendships 
were formed with important personages living in the 
villas and castles of the vicinity. All found that Scott 
had formed a connection with one who had the 'sterling 
qualities of a good wife,' to quote Lockhart's phrase. 
The brothers of the Mountain — a group of boon com- 
panions who were closely associated and very fond of 
each other's society — welcomed Mrs. Scott with the 
greatest delight. A married life of perfect serenity was 
inaugurated, which lasted until the death of 'the ever 
faithful and true companion' in 1826. 

In a confidential letter to Lady Abercorn, written in 
1810, Scott refers to his attempt, in the 'Lady of the 

22 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER - 

Lake/ to make 'a knight of love who never broke a vow, 
and mentions his own melancholy experience of early 
days. He adds: 'Mrs. Scott's match and mine was one 
of our own making, and proceeded from the most sincere 
affection on both sides, which has rather increased than 
chminished during twelve years' marriage. But it was 
something short of love in all its forms, which I suspect 
people only feel once in their lives; folks who have been 
nearly drowned in bathing rarely venturing a second 
time out of their depth.' 

These words should not be misconstrued. Whatever 
the ardency of his first love, the second was no less sin- 
cere and true. If the first was the highly poetic type, the 
young dream of a peculiarly sensitive nature, the second 
was the kind that enables young couples to meet in 
peace and serenity all the varied problems of life, to 
establish their housekeeping in mutual helpfulness, to 
laugh away their cares, as Scott wrote to Miss Carpen- 
ter, or if the load is too heavy, to share it between them, 
'until it becomes almost as light as pleasure itself.' It 
was in this spirit that the young people established their 
household gods in the cottage at Lasswade. 

To a man of Scott's disposition, happy in his new 
home life, with every incentive to improve his oppor- 
tunities, his mind steeped from infancy in the rude bal- 
lads of the border country and his heart bounding with 
delight at the beauties of nature, this new environment 
seemed all that was needed to turn his whole thought to 
poetry. 

Sweet are the paths, passing sweet! 

By Esk's fair streams that run 
O'er airy steep through copsewood deep 
Impervious to the sun. 

23 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

There the rapt poet's step may rove, 

And yield the muse the day; 
There Beauty, led by timid Love 

May shun the telltale ray. 

No afternoon stroll could be more delightful than one 
through the valley of the Esk as far as Roslin. Many go 
to Roslin by coach from Edinburgh, but they fail to see 
the glen. Guided by a Scottish friend, we found that the 
better way is to go to Hawthornden and walk through 
the gardens and grounds of the ancient castle where the 
poet Drummond lived and wrote to his heart's content 
of the beauties of the scene. Here we saw the caves, cut 
out of the solid rock beneath the castle, which sheltered 
Robert Bruce during the troublous times when Fortune 
seemed to frown. Here, too, we stood under the syca- 
more tree where Drummond welcomed Ben Jonson to his 
home. Descending the path to the river, we crossed by 
a little wooden bridge, with a gate in the middle, which 
can be opened only from the Hawthornden side. Then 
a walk, which was half scramble, brought us finally to 
Roslin Castle, on a rock peeping over the foliage, high 
above the river. Both Roslin and Hawthornden are 
mentioned in 'The Lay of the Last Minstrel' in the bal- 
lad of the lovely Rosabelle: — 

O'er Roslin all that dreary night 
A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam; 

'T was broader than the watch-fire light, 
And redder than the bright moonbeam. 

It glared on Roslin's castled rock, 

It ruddied all the copsewood glen; 
'T was seen from Dreyden's groves of oak, 

And seen from caverned Hawthornden. 

24 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

The quiet of Lasswade gave Scott the opportunity for 
the compilation of the 'Minstrelsy of the Scottish Bor- 
der,' and its romantic beauty furnished the inspiration 
for his first serious attempts to write new ballads in 
imitation of the old ones. 'It was amidst these delicious 
solitudes/ says Lockhart, 'that he produced the pieces 
which laid the imperishable foundations of all his fame. 
It was here that when his warm heart was beating with 
young and happy love, and his whole mind and spirit 
were nerved with new motives for exertion — it was 
here in the ripened glow of manhood he seems to have 
first felt something of his real strength, and found him- 
self out in those splendid original ballads which were at 
once to fix his name.' 

At this period Scott was a man of unusually robust 
health. In spite of the lameness with which he had been 
afflicted from infancy, his powers of endurance were 
very great. He could walk thirty miles a day or ride one 
hundred without resting. He was quartermaster of the 
Edinburgh Volunteers and had a great reputation as a 
skilful horseman. 'He had a remarkably firm seat on 
horseback/ said Mr. Skene, 'and in all situations a fear- 
less one: no fatigue ever seemed too much for him, and 
his zeal and animation served to sustain the enthusiasm 
of the whole corps.' His companions called him 'Earl 
Walter/ and whenever there came, at drills, a moment 
of rest, all turned intuitively to the quartermaster, 
whose ever ready fun never failed to lighten the burdens 
of the day. It was really this remarkable gift of good 
companionship, coupled with his fondness for horses 
and unusual powers of endurance, that enabled Scott 
to gather the materials for his poems. 

25 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

'Eh me,' said Shortreed, his companion and guide in 
the Liddesdale raids, 'sic an endless fund o' humour and 
drollery as he then had wi' him ! Never ten yards but we 
were either laughing or roaring or singing. Wherever 
we stopped, how brawlie he suited himsel' to everybody! 
He aye did as the lave did; never made himsel' the great 
man, or took ony airs in the company.' It was literally 
true, as he said, that he 'had a home in every farm- 
house.' 

To his rare good fellowship and his powers of endur- 
ance, Scott added one other quality without which his 
vigorous search for literary material might have been of 
little use, namely, a most extraordinary memory, which 
enabled him to retain what he had heard and use it 
many years afterward. James Hogg, the eccentric 
Ettrick shepherd, gives a fine instance of this power. 
One night Scott, with his friends, Hogg and Skene, was 
out on a fishing expedition. 'While we three sat down 
on the brink of a river,' says Hogg, 'Scott desired me to 
sing them my ballad of Gilman's Cleugh. Now be it 
remembered that this ballad had never been printed: I 
had merely composed it by rote, and, on finishing it 
three years before, had sung it over once to Sir Walter. 
I began it, at his request, but at the eighth or ninth 
stanza I stuck in it and could not get on with another 
verse, on which he began it again and recited it every 
word from beginning to end. It being a very long bal- 
lad, consisting of eighty-eight stanzas, I testified my 
astonishment, knowing that he had never heard it but 
once, and even then did not appear to be paying particu- 
lar attention. He said he had been out with a pleasure 
party as far as the opening of the Firth of Forth, and, 

26 



THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER 

to amuse the company, he had recited both that ballad 
and one of Southey's ("The Abbot of Aberbrothock"), 
both of which ballads he had only heard once from their 
respective authors, and he believed he recited them both 
without misplacing a word.' 

Living in a country where new beauty appears at 
every turn in the road and romance is echoed from every 
hillside, happy in his domestic relations, blessed with 
the faculty of making friends wherever he went, whether 
among farmers and shepherds or lords and ladies, active 
in travelling into every nook or corner where material 
could be found, keen to appreciate a good story or a 
pleasing ballad, and able to remember all he ever heard 
or read, Walter Scott became a poet as easily and 
naturally as the rippling waters of his beloved Tweed 
find their way to the sea. 



CHAPTER II 

THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

The years at Lasswade were marked by one of the most 
momentous decisions of Scott's life. He had reached the 
parting of the ways; one leading to the practice of the 
law; the other — and the more alluring one — to liter- 
ature as a profession. Had his father been alive, it is 
probable that a high sense of duty and loyalty would 
have determined him to continue in the law, for the old 
gentleman had set his heart upon that, and Scott would 
have submitted to almost any irksome requirement 
rather than wound the feelings of his parent. But the 
worthy barrister's death a year or two after his son's 
marriage had put an end to any scruples on his account. 
Although Scott had not made a failure, his success at the 
Bar was not remarkable. In the year preceding his 
marriage and the fifth year of his practice, his fee-book 
showed an income of only one hundred forty-four 
pounds, ten shillings. He never had any fondness for the 
law. As he afterwards expressed it: 'My profession and 
I came to stand nearly upon the footing which honest 
Slender consoled himself on having established with 
Mistress Anne Page: "There was no great love between 
us at the beginning and it pleased Heaven to decrease it 
on farther acquaintance."' He began to realize that 
' the Scottish Themis was peculiarly jealous of any flirta- 
tion with the Muses,' and that a young lawyer could not 
expect to succeed unless he kept up the appearance of 

28 



THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

being busy even when he had nothing to do. A barrister 
who spent his time ' running after ballads ' was not to be 
trusted. To succeed in the law meant, therefore, a fare- 
well to literature. It meant other sacrifices, too. His 
vigorous health at this period enabled him to indulge a 
natural fondness for country sports, horseback riding, 
hunting, fishing, and the like. His membership in the 
Edinburgh Volunteers gave him a most agreeable com- 
panionship with a fine class of men, among whom he was 
extremely popular and with whom he spent some of the 
happiest hours of his life. All this would have to be 
given up if he continued at the Bar, and instead he 
would feel obliged to tie himself down to a severe course 
of study in some musty old office in Edinburgh. 

Two circumstances combined to make feasible the 
more attractive path. The first was Scott's appointment 
as Sheriff of Selkirk with an income of three hundred 
pounds a year, which gave him a certain degree of inde- 
pendence, while the duties were not onerous. The sec- 
ond was the success of the 'Minstrelsy of the Scottish 
Border.' For several years Scott had travelled extens- 
ively through many remote nooks and corners in search 
of material for this compilation, and its publication had 
brought him into public notice as a man of no small lit- 
erary skill. His gratification with its success may be 
judged from a letter to. his brother-in-law, Charles 
Carpenter, in 1803 : — 

I have continued to turn a very slender portion of literary 
talents to some account by a publication of the poetical anti- 
quities of the Border, where the old people had preserved 
many ballads descriptive of the manners of the country 
during the wars with England. This trifling collection was 

29 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

so well received by a discerning public, that, after receiving 
about £100 profit for the first edition, which my vanity 
cannot omit informing you went off in six months, I have 
sold the copyright for £500 more. 

This enterprise, paying as much as the entire proceeds 
of Scott's first five years of legal effort, gave assurance 
of a financial success in literature, which coupled with a 
certain income as Sheriff seemed to make the future 
fairly secure. Reasoning in this way, Scott finally 
reached his decision to abandon the law and devote his 
life to literature. 

'The Lay of the Last Minstrel' was the immediate 
result. Scott felt the responsibility of his position. He 
was now the head of a family, having a wife and three 
children of whom he might well be proud, and he felt 
impelled to make a financial as well as literary success of 
his chosen profession. He had previously tried his hand 
at original composition. Inspired perhaps by his famil- 
iarity with the old Scottish ballads, he had essayed some- 
thing of the same character. The first of these produc- 
tions was ' Glenfinlas,' growing out of his early visits to 
the Highlands. Glenfinlas is a forest in Perthshire, 
north of the Trossachs and east of Loch Katrine. Next 
came 'The Eve of St. John,' in which Scott rebuilt and 
repeopled the old tower of Smailholm which had so 
fascinated his boyish fancy. In 'The Gray Brother,' an 
incomplete ballad of this period, the poet sang the 
praises of the vale of the Esk, then the scene of his al- 
most daily walks. The fourth of these early poems was 
'Cadyow Castle,' a ballad on the assassination of the 
Regent Murray. Cadyow Castle is a very dilapidated 
old ruin in a park of wondrous beauty near Hamilton, 

30 




} LANARK iPEEBLES' V ^J ,-1ob R 

CASTLE IW£Lt,/ Abbo(3fora , / \ 

'.- \ J.55TTHE Al«OTj_<3>° r> 



D LJ#VI FRIES 
I" v -_—— 1Q Dumfries 

V, KIRKCUDBRIGHT tap GAUNTLET 

IGTOWN v : 



Longitude West 




/' 



* 



THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

southeast of Glasgow. There is a deep glen, through 
which runs a little river, the Avon, and on the banks are 
many tall and beautiful trees. The park was once a part 
of the old Caledonian forest, a few of the ancient oaks of 
which still remain standing. It was the habitation of the 
fierce wild cattle which furnished the liveliest and most 
dangerous sport whenever a hunt was arranged. Some- 
thing of the spirit and fire of Scott's later work is seen in 
these lines: — 

Mightiest of all the beasts of chase 

That roam in woody Caledon, 
Crashing the forest in his race, 

The Mountain Bull comes thundering on. 

Fierce on the hunter's quivered band 

He rolls his eyes of swarthy glow, 
Spurns, with black hoof and horn, the sand 

And tosses high his mane of snow. 

The man who could write such lines as these must have 
felt an instinct for poetry which no amount of reasoning 
could ever set aside. It was, therefore, well that Scott 
did not attempt to resist his natural inclinations. 

We find him, then, deliberately turning to poetry, and 
carefully surveying the field to choose his first subject. 
Three influences, widely different in character, combined 
to solve this problem. The first was his interest in the 
stories of Border warfare aroused by the tales of his 
childhood and immensely stimulated by his thorough 
search for ballads to make up the 'Border Minstrelsy.' 
The second was his membership in the Edinburgh Vol- 
unteers which gave a military trend to his thoughts. 
The third was his desire to oblige a lady. The young 
Countess of Dalkeith, afterward Duchess of Buccleuch, 

3i 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

was an intellectual woman of extreme beauty and lovely 
character. She was, moreover, the wife of the chief of 
the clan of Scott, and therefore entitled, in the poet's 
view at least, to the fealty of her kinsmen. Having 
heard the legend of Gilpin Horner, a goblin dwarf 
in whom most of the people implicitly believed, the 
Countess, much delighted with the story, enjoined 
upon Scott the task of composing a ballad on the sub- 
ject. The slightest wish of one so beloved was a com- 
mand. 

The poet soon realized that the goblin was likely to 
prove a veritable imp of mischief, threatening to ruin his 
ballad, and before the poem was finished, relegated him 
to the kitchen where he properly belonged. With the 
goblin story reduced to a mere incident, the poem ex- 
panded to a tale of Border warfare in which all of Scott's 
military spirit and knowledge of history and legend 
came to the front. He wrote it, as he declared in a letter 
to Wordsworth, to discharge his mind of the ideas which 
from infancy had rushed upon it. In a letter to George 
Ellis in 1802, he refers to it as a 'kind of romance of 
Border chivalry in a light-horseman sort of stanza.' 
In the autumn of that year, while on duty with his troop 
at Musselburgh, during a charge on Portobello sands, he 
received a kick from his horse which confined him to his 
rooms for three days. This accident gave an unexpected 
opportunity, and in these three days the actual writing 
of the poem was started and the whole of the first canto 
completed except the introductory framework. It is easy 
to recognize the 'light-horseman' stanza. Indeed, the 
clatter of horses' hoofs is heard distinctly as Sir William 
of Deloraine sets forth upon his night ride to Melrose : — 

32 



THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

'O swiftly can speed my dapple-grey steed 

Which drinks of the Teviot clear; 
Ere break of day,' the warrior 'gan say, 

'Again will I be here: 
And safer by none may thy errand be done 

Than, noble dame, by me!' 

Soon in his saddle sate he fast, 
And soon the steep descent he passed, 
Soon crossed the sounding barbican, 
And soon the Teviot side he won. 

And soon he spurred his courser keen 

Beneath the tower of Hazeldean. 

The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark: 
'Stand ho! thou courier of the dark!' 
'For Branksome, ho!' the knight rejoined, 

And left the friendly tower behind. 

The spirited ride to Melrose; the opening of the wizard's 
grave; the delightful picture of the ruined abbey; the 
meeting of Lady Margaret and Lord Cranstoun; the 
telling encounter of the latter with the Knight of Delo- 
raine; the manly spirit of the young heir of Branksome; 
the tales of Watt Tinlinn and the Scotts of Thirlstane, of 
Harden and of Eskdale, the coming of the Englishmen, 
Belted Will Howard and Lord Dacre, the duel resulting 
in the death of Richard of Musgrave, and the triumph 
of Cranstoun's love for the fair Margaret, all combine to 
produce a vivid impression of the stirring events, the 
conditions of life, and the ideals of the Border country in 
the days of chivalry. 

The framework of this picture, from which it takes its 
name, is generally considered the most beautiful part of 
the poem. The old minstrel is supposed to relate the 
tale, with the accompaniment of his harp, to the noble 

33 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Duchess of Buccleuch. The minstrel, with his reverence 
and enthusiasm for the old ballad poetry, now in its deca- 
dence, is of course the poet himself and the Duchess is 
his patron, who first suggested the poem. In no more 
beautiful and delicate way could the poet have shown 
his devotion to the lord and lady who had so greatly 
inspired him. Moreover, it gave him the method of 
showing, as he said, that he had no intention of setting 
up a new school of poetry, but was only making ' a feeble 
attempt to imitate the old.' The historical basis of the 
poem is told in a letter to Lady Dalkeith: — 

Dame Janet Beatoun, Lady Buccleuch, who flourished 
in Queen Mary's time, was a woman of high spirit and great 
talents. According to the superstition of the times, the vul- 
gar imputed her extraordinary abilities to supernatural 
knowledge. If Lady Dalkeith will look into the Introduction 
to the 'Border Ballads,' pages xv and xxix, she will find 
some accounts of a deadly feud betwixt the clans of Scott 
and Kerr, which, among other outrages, occasioned the 
death of Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch, the husband of 
Janet Beatoun, who was slain by the Kerrs in the streets of 
Edinburgh. The lady resented the death of her husband by 
many exploits against the Kerrs and their allies. In particu- 
lar the Laird of Cranstoun fell under her displeasure, and 
she herself headed a party of three hundred horse with the 
intention of surprising and killing that baron in the chapel 
of St. Mary, beside St. Mary's Loch at the head of Yarrow. 
The Baron escaped, but the lady burned the chapel and slew 
many of the attendants. . . . The feud was finally ended by 
Cranstoun marrying the lady's daughter. 

About this fragment of history Scott wove his stirring 
tale of the Scottish lowlands in the sixteenth century. 

The last of all the bards was he 
Who sung of Border chivalry. 

34 



THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

The aged minstrel is introduced as he passes 

where Newark's stately tower 
Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower. 

The old ruin was a favourite resort for Scott, and many a 
happy holiday excursion was made to those 'rich groves 
of lofty stature' which Wordsworth celebrated in his 
'Yarrow Visited.' The ancient tower stands on high 
ground above the Yarrow, on a road leading westward 
from Selkirk, over which Scott often walked or rode. 
About two miles away is Bowhill, a country-seat of the 
Duke of Buccleuch, where the poet was always a wel- 
come guest. He refers to it affectionately in the closing 
stanza of the 'Lay': — 

When summer smiled on sweet Bowhill. 

Still farther south is Oakwood Tower, a stronghold of the 
celebrated Wat of Harden, one of the poet's ancestors. 

Wide lay his lands round Oakwood Tower 
And wide round haunted Castle-Ower. 

This was 'Auld Wat,' who married the 'Flower of Yar- 
row,' one of the most beautiful women of the Border, 
who lived at Dryhope, near the foot of St. Mary's Loch. 

High over Borthwick's mountain flood 
His wood-embosomed mansion stood. 

The Borthwick joins the Teviot just above the town of 
Hawick. The house of Harden stands high up above a 
deep and romantic glen where there was ample room to 
conceal 'the herds of plundered England.' 

Marauding chief! his sole delight 
The moonlight raid, the morning fight; 
Not even the Flower of Yarrow's charms 
In youth might tame his rage for arms. 

35 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Auld Wat's son, afterwards Sir William Scott of Harden, 
a remarkably handsome man and an early favourite of 
King James VI, inherited some of his father's propen- 
sities for driving off his neighbour's cattle and other 
irregularities common to the time. In a raid upon the 
lands of Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank he was captured 
and carried in chains to the castle. Elibank is now a ruin 
on the banks of the Tweed not far from Ashestiel, whither 
Scott was fond of walking on Sunday mornings. The 
legend which Scott tells, about as it was told to him in 
his youth, and not, perhaps, in exact accordance with 
the facts, is as follows: — 

When the young marauder was brought to the castle 
in chains, the Lady Murray asked her lord what he pro- 
posed to do with him. 'Why, hang the robber, assur- 
edly,' was the answer. 'What,' answered the lady, 
'hang the handsome young knight of Harden when I 
have three ill-favoured daughters unmarried! No, no, 
Sir Gideon, we '11 force him to marry our Meg.' ' Meikle- 
mouthed Meg' was the ugliest woman in the country, 
and young Sir William promptly decided that he would 
rather hang. Three days were given him to think the 
matter over, after which he was led out beneath a con- 
venient oak, with a rope tied around his neck and the 
other end was passed over a stout limb of the tree. Then 
he began to reconsider and decided that, as between 
nooses, he preferred the matrimonial one. There may 
be some advantages in ugly wives after all, and one of 
them, in this case at least, seemed to be an entire ab- 
sence of jealousy. It was said, moreover, that 'Meg' had 
' a curious hand at pickling the beef which Sir William 
stole.' They lived a very happy life. The marriage con- 

36 



THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

tract was written on the head of a drum and the parch- 
ment is still preserved. Scott was so fond of the legend 
that he wanted to make it the subject of a comic ballad. 
He accordingly began, but never finished 'The Reiver's 
Wedding.' The grandson of this couple was Walter 
Scott, known as 'Beardie,' the great-grandfather of the 
poet. 

About a mile above the junction of the Teviot with 
the Borthwick stands the castle of Branksome. Seen 
from the opposite side of the river standing on a ter- 
raced slope, partly hidden by the trees and shrubs, it 
makes a pretty picture. 

All, all is peaceful, all is still, 
and there is nothing to suggest the time when 

Nine and twenty knights of fame — 
Hung their shields in Branksome Hall. 

It seemed to us more modern than it really is, for it was 
completed in its present form in the year 1576. The 
barony of Branxholme, or Branksome, came into the 
possession of Sir William Scott of Buccleuch in the early 
part of the fifteenth century and still remains in the 
family. The towers which formerly occupied the site 
were attacked by the English again and again, and the 
castle burned and pillaged. It will be remembered that 
after a preliminary survey of the castle and its attendant 
knights, the minstrel tells the story of how Lord Walter 
fell, of the widow's desire for vengeance, and of the Lady 
Margaret's love for Lord Cranstoun, her father's foe. 
Then for some purpose which is not clearly defined, the 
'Ladye' calls to her side the boldest knight of her train, 
Sir William of Deloraine, and bids him ride with all 

37 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

haste to Melrose Abbey, there to open the grave of the 
wizard, Michael Scott, and to take from it the ' Mighty- 
Book. ' Sir Michael Scott was a man of learning who 
flourished in the thirteenth century. He wrote several 
philosophical treatises and devoted much time to the 
study of alchemy, astrology, chiromancy, and other 
abstruse subjects, whence he gained the reputation of 
being a wizard. Many weird tales are told of his per- 
formances. Being sent as an ambassador to France to 
demand satisfaction for certain grievances, he opened his 
magic book and caused a fiend in the shape of a huge 
black horse to fly out. Mounting, he flew across the sea 
and presented himself to the king. His demands were 
about to be met with a curt refusal when Michael begged 
the king to defer his answer until the black horse had 
stamped three times. The first stamp set all the bells in 
Paris to ringing; the second tumbled over three towers of 
the palace; the horse raised his foot for the third stamp, 
but the king would not risk another and gave to Michael 
what he wanted. It was this same wizard who 'cleft the 
Eildon Hills in three,' the triple peaks which so pic- 
turesquely dominate the entire landscape in the vicinity 
of Melrose, having been formerly, so it is said, a single 
summit. It has always been understood that the ' magic 
book' was buried with the wizard, and that no one dared 
remove it because of the 'terrible spells' which it con- 
tained. 

The knight arrived after a spirited gallop, and shortly 
after midnight rapped with the hilt of his dagger on the 
wicket gate. The porter hurried to admit him, and soon 
he greeted the aged monk of St. Mary's Aisle. Sighing 
heavily the monk conducted the man of arms through 

38 



THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

the cloisters, which may still be seen looking very much 
as the poet described them in lines not only poetically 
beautiful but literally true: — 

Spreading herbs and flowerets bright 
Glistened with the dew of night; 
Nor herb nor floweret glistened there 
But was carved in the cloister arches as fair. 

Seven graceful arches, forming stalls or seats once used 
by the dignitaries of the church, make a continuous line 
along the eastern wall. Above the arches, and joining 
one to another, are stone carvings of rare delicacy and 
beauty. Of the more than a hundred separate figures in 
this frieze no two are alike. There are roses, lilacs, 
thistles, ferns, oak leaves, and scores of other representa- 
tions of the forms of nature, all exquisitely carved with 
inimitable accuracy. Scott admired these arches so 
greatly that he copied one of them for the fireplace of the 
entrance hall at Abbotsford. 

The 'steel-clenched postern door,' through which the 
monk and the knight now entered the chancel, stands 
nearly intact. Its three arches rest on graceful pilasters 
surmounted by capitals, with carved foliage so delicate 
that a straw can be passed behind the stalks of the 
leaves. We found it interesting upon entering this door 
to note the accuracy of the poet's descriptions, which 
the guide quoted with great fluency. The pillars sup- 
porting the lofty roof spread out to form the great 
arches, seeming to be ' bundles of lances which garlands 
had bound.' 

We stood beneath this arched roof for a long time to 
admire the beautiful East Window, and the guide 
quoted: — 

39 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

The moon on the East oriel shone 
Through slender shafts of shapely stone 
By foliaged tracery combined. 

It is almost impossible to realize that these long and 
slender shafts are really carved out of stone and that the 
work was done many centuries ago. Scott accounts for it 
poetically: — 

Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand 
'Twixt poplars straight the osier wand , 
In many a freakish knot had twined, 
Then framed a spell when the work was done, 
And changed the willow wreaths to stone. 

Beneath the window lies the heart of Robert Bruce. It 
had been the desire of the monarch that his heart be 
interred in the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. After his 
death the body was buried beneath the high altar of the 
church at Dunfermline, but the heart was taken out 
and committed to the keeping of James, Lord Douglas, 
who undertook to carry it to the Holy Land. But James 
was defeated and killed by the Saracens, and the heart 
of his royal master was taken to Melrose and buried 
there. This was as it should be, for the heart of Bruce, 
figuratively speaking, was always in Melrose. After the 
destruction of the abbey in 1322 by Edward II on his 
retreat from Scotland, Bruce made a grant of £2000 
sterling, a sum equivalent to about £50,000 in the 
money of to-day. Because of this munificence the abbey 
was rebuilt in all the beauty and perfection which 
Gothic architecture could suggest, so that even in ruins 
it is still a structure of graceful magnificence. In 1384, 
the abbey was again destroyed, but later restored. In 
1544, 1545, and finally a century later under the Re- 

40 



THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

formation, the abbey suffered serious damage from 
which it never recovered. 

The grave of Michael Scott which Deloraine was sent 
to open was pointed out to us, as it is to all visitors, but 
in reality its exact position is not known. Johnny 
Bower, an old guide of whom Scott was very fond, dis- 
covered the position of the grave by noting the direction 
of the moonbeams through the oriel window. ' I pointed 
out the whole to the Shirra,' said he, 'and he couldna' 
gainsay but it was varra clear. ' 'Scott, ' says Washington 
Irving, who tells the story, 'used to amuse himself with 
the simplicity of the old man and his zeal in verifying 
every passage of the poem, as though it had been authen- 
tic history, and always acquiesced in his deductions.' 

Like all other visitors we wanted to see the abbey 
properly, and that, according to the poet, could only be 
done by moonlight. 

If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, 
Go visit it by the pale moonlight. 

The moon was full while we were there and seemed to 
offer a splendid opportunity. But an unexpected 
obstacle appeared. In Scotland, in the summer time, 
the evenings are very long, the twilight lasting until ten 
or eleven o'clock, while the moon makes very little 
impression until a late hour. And the custodian of the 
abbey goes to bed early! So it was impossible to see the 
moon shining through the east oriel, but fortunately we 
could see the outer walls from the windows of our hotel, 
which adjoins the ruin, and the moon kindly favoured us 
by making 

Buttress and buttress alternately 
Seem framed of ebon and ivory. 

41 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

The next day we were treated to a superb view from the 
private grounds of a gentleman whose estate adjoins the 
abbey. From this point the entire southern wall, which 
remains nearly intact, gives at first glance the impression 
of a complete and beautiful Gothic structure. The dis- 
tant hills furnish a fine background and the well-kept 
lawns and graceful birches perform the double duty of 
shutting out the graveyard and making a charming 
foreground. 

But to return to the story. While William of Delo- 
raine, with the mystic book pressed close to his breast, 
was eagerly returning to Branksome, the fair Lady 
Margaret was early awake and seeking the greenwood at 
dawn of light to meet her lover, the Baron Henry. 

A fairer pair were never seen 

To meet beneath the hawthorn green. 

He was stately and young and tall, 

Dreaded in battle and loved in hall; 

And she, when love, scarce told, scarce hid, 

Lent to her cheek a livelier red, 

When the half sigh her swelling breast 

Against the silken ribbon pressed, 

When her blue eyes their secret told, 

Though shaded by her locks of gold — 

Where would you find the peerless fair 

With Margaret of Branksome might compare! 

Lockhart finds in this passage ' the form and features of 
Scott's first love/ and also says that the choice of the 
hero was dictated by the poet's affection for the living 
descendants of the Baron of Cranstoun. One of these, 
George Cranstoun, afterward Lord Corehouse, was one 
of Scott's earliest friends. His sister, the Countess of 
Purgstall, was the confidante of Scott at the time of his 
early disappointment in love. 

42 






THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

The meeting of the lovers was all too brief. The 
Baron's horse pricked up his ears, ' as if a distant noise he 
hears,' and the goblin dwarf signed to the lovers to part 
and fly. William of Deloraine, returning from his all- 
night ride, was seen coming down the hill into 'Brank- 
some's hawthorn green.' No words were wasted. 

Their very coursers seemed to know 
That each was other's mortal foe. 

Like the bursting of a thundercloud the two champions 
met, and in another moment William of Deloraine lay- 
on the ground, with Cranstoun's lance, broken, in his 
bosom. The goblin page was directed to attend the 
wounded knight, and in doing so discovered the 'Mighty 
Book' from which he learned some mischievous 'spells.' 
The son of the Ladye of Branksome was lured into the 
woods and fell into the hands of an English yeoman who 
took him, a captive, to Lord Dacre. Scouts hurrying 
into the castle brought news of the approach of three 
thousand Englishmen led by 'Belted Will Howard' and 
'Hot Lord Dacre.' 

Naworth Castle, the home of the Dacres and later of 
the Howards, was one of the first places we visited. It is 
a fine old baronial castle in Cumberland County, about 
twelve miles from Carlisle. It was built in the four- 
teenth century by the Dacre family, who derived their 
name from the exploits of an ancestor who was conspicu- 
ous at the Siege of Acre in the Holy Land,, under King 
Richard the Lion-Hearted. In the sixteenth century it 
passed into the possession of Lord William Howard, a 
famous 'warden of the marches,' who became known as 
'Belted Will Howard.' 

43 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt, 
Hung in a broad and studded belt; 
Hence, in rude phrase, the Borderers still 
Called noble Howard Belted Will. 

One of the towers of Naworth, which this celebrity occu- 
pied, still remains much as he left it, even to the books 
that formed his library. Lanercost Priory, the burial- 
place of the Howards and Dacres, is an unusually pic- 
turesque and interesting ruin in the same vicinity. 

The beacon fires soon summoned a goodly array of 
the best blood of Scotland to meet the English invaders, 
among whom were Archibald Douglas, seventh Earl of 
Angus, a descendant of James, Lord Douglas, who at- 
tempted to carry the heart of Bruce to the Holy Land. 
But the battle was averted, and instead a single combat 
arranged between Richard of Musgrave and William of 
Deloraine, the prize of the field to be the young Buc- 
cleuch, who had fallen into the hands of the English. 
The Lady of Branksome was escorted to the field of the 
tournament by Lord Howard, while Margaret had the 
stately Douglas by her side. The strife was desperate 
and long, and in the end Musgrave was slain. But not 
by the hand of William of Deloraine. Lord Cranstoun, 
by the aid of magic learned from the ' Mighty Book ' and 
assisted by the goblin page, had contrived to array him- 
self in the armour of Sir William and so :had won the 
fight. 

'And who art thou,' they cried, 
'Who hast this battle fought and won?' 
His plum6d helm was soon undone — 

'Cranstoun of Teviot-side! 
For this fair prize I've fought and won' — 
And to the Ladye led her son. 

44 



• 



THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL 

Then and there the feud was ended. The Ladye of 

Branksome, declaring that 'pride is quelled and love is 

free/ gave the hand of Margaret to the Baron of Crans- 

toun, with all the noble lords assembled to grace the 

betrothal with their presence. 

The sixth canto is superfluous if we consider that the 

story ends with the betrothal. And yet it contains some 

of the finest passages in the whole poem. It opens with 

that superb outburst of patriotism, beginning, — 

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 
This is my own, my native land? — 

which shows, better than anything else, the extent to 
which Scott's inspiration was derived from his own 
Scotland. 

Caledonia, stern and wild, 

Meet nurse for a poetic child! 

Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 

Land of the mountain and .the flood, 

Land of my sires! what mortal hand 

Can e'er untie the filial band 

That knits me to thy rugged strand! 

Here, too, we find the ballad of the lovely Rosabelle, 
having its scene in the Castle of Roslin, in the vale of the 
Esk, which Scott learned to love during those six bright 
years spent at Lasswade. This alone would almost jus- 
tify the extra canto, but we have in addition the stately 
requiem of Melrose Abbey, bringing the poem to a 
solemn and beautiful close. 
Then comes the final word of the old minstrel: — 

Hushed is the harp — the Minstrel gone. 
And did he wander forth alone? 
Alone, in indigence and age, 
To linger out his pilgrimage? 

45 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

No: close beneath proud Newark's tower 
Arose the Minstrel's lowly bower, 
A simple hut ; but there was seen 
The little garden hedged with green, 
The cheerful hearth, and lattice clean. 

These lines are but the embodiment of one of Scott's 
dreams at the time he wrote them. The small estate of 
Broadmeadows, near the ruins of Newark, was about to 
be offered for sale, and Scott, dreaming of the time when 
he might have a home of his own, rode around it fre- 
quently with Lord and Lady Dalkeith, earnestly hoping 
that some day he might possess it. But the vision faded 
when the success of the poem gave him larger ambitions, 
leading ultimately to the purchase of Abbotsford. 



CHAPTER III 

MARMION 

There was no title of which Scott was more fond than 
that of 'Sheriff of Ettrick Forest.' The 'Shirra,' as he 
was affectionately called, was a welcome guest in every 
farmhouse and there were few in the region where he 
had not been entertained. The 'Forest' comprises the 
great tract of hilly country lying between the Tweed and 
Ettrick Water and extending as far east as Selkirk. 
Perhaps because we were familiar with the Adirondacks 
and the Blue Ridge Mountains, where one may travel 
for hours in the shade of the 'forest primeval,' it was to 
us a distinct disappointment, and recalled the remark of 
Washington Irving, that you could almost see a stout 
fly walking along the profile of the hills. Centuries ago 
these hills, now completely denuded, were clothed with a 
dense growth of trees and the entire region was set apart 
as a royal hunting-ground. It is recorded that in the 
sixteenth century King James V gave a royal hunting- 
party, in which the nobles and gentlemen of Scotland to 
the extent of twelve thousand men participated. But 
love of sport at length gave way to royal cupidity. For 
the sake of increasing his revenue, the king turned the 
forest into a huge sheep pasture, and these hungry ani- 
mals, still retaining possession, have literally destroyed 
the forest and changed the whole aspect of the land. 
Scott, nevertheless, loved the bare hills, and said, ' If I 

47 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

could not see the heather at least once a year, I think I 
should die/ 

The duties of the Sheriff's office compelled a change 
from Lasswade to a place nearer the town of Selkirk, 
and Scott found a small farm well suited to his fancy, 
near the northern limits of the 'Forest,' at Ashestiel, 
on high ground overlooking the Tweed. Here he spent 
some of the happiest summers of his life. In a letter to 
Dr. Leyden, he gives a pleasant picture of his happy 
family at this time: — 

Here we live all the summer like little kings, and only wish 
that you could take a scamper with me over the hills in the 
morning, and return to a clean tablecloth, a leg of forest 
mutton, and a blazing hearth in the afternoon. Walter has 
acquired the surname of Gilnockie, being large of limb and 
bone and dauntless in disposition like that noted chieftain. 
Your little friend Sophia is grown a tall girl, and I think 
promises to be very clever, as she discovers uncommon 
acuteness of apprehension. We have, moreover, a little 
roundabout girl with large dark eyes, as brown, as good- 
humoured, and as lively as the mother that bore her, and of 
whom she is the most striking picture. Over and above all 
this, there is in rerum natura a certain little Charles, so 
called after the Knight of the Crocodile; but of this gentle- 
man I can say but little, as he is only five months old, and 
consequently not at the time of life when I can often enjoy 
the 'honour of his company.' 

Of the house itself and its surroundings Lockhart has 
given a charming description: — 

You approached it through an old-fashioned garden, with 
holly hedges, and broad, green terrace walks. On one side, 
close under the windows, is a deep ravine, clothed with ven- 
erable trees, down which a mountain rivulet is heard, more 
than seen, in its progress to the Tweed. The river itself is 

48 



MARMION 

separated from the high bank on which the house stands only 
by a narrow meadow of the richest verdure. Opposite, and 
all around, are the green hills. The valley there is narrow 
and the aspect in every direction is that of perfect pastoral 
repose. 

They were eight miles from the nearest town and four 
from the nearest neighbour. The latter circumstance 
Scott did not regret, though he found the former some- 
what inconvenient for obtaining needed supplies and 
naively complains to Lady Abercorn that he had been 
compelled to go out and shoot a crow to get a quill with 
which to write her. Nearly the whole country rounda- 
bout belonged to the Duke of Buccleuch, who gave the 
poet full liberty to hunt upon his estates. The Tweed in 
the vicinity of Ashestiel and of Elibank, a little above, 
was unsurpassed for fishing. A favourite sport was 
'leistering kippers,' or spearing salmon at night by the 
light of a blazing peat fire. Perhaps the most exhilarat- 
ing pastime of all was the horseback riding, in which the 
poet was an expert. Accompanied by one or more of 
his most congenial friends, he would make excursions 
into remote regions, never dismounting in the very worst 
paths and displaying powers of endurance and fearless- 
ness that made him the wonder and the envy of his com- 
panions. 

Scott was now in the full vigour of his manhood. The 
weakness of earlier years had disappeared, and with the 
exception of the lameness, which never left him, he was 
strong and healthy in body as well as mind. He was in 
the full flush of his first great fame as a man of letters, 
and the trials of his later life had not yet begun. 

It was at this period and under these circumstances 

49 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

that the poem of 'Marmion' was written. The poet's 
enthusiasm for the locality in which he lived, and for 
the friends who made that life a joy, found expression 
in the Introductions to the six cantos, each addressed 
to one of his intimate companions. Most readers of 
'Marmion,' becoming absorbed in the story, have re- 
garded these introductions as unnecessary interruptions. 
But no one would wish them to be omitted, for they re- 
veal the author who is telling the tale, and we seem to see 
him in his changing environment, through the successive 
seasons as the poem advances, beginning with the day at 
Ashestiel, when 

November's sky is chill and drear 
November's leaf is red and sear; 

and closing with the Christmas-time, a year later at 
Mertoun House, where the poet passed the happy days 
in the house where his great- grandsire came of old, 'the 
feast and holy tide to share.' 

The introductions were originally intended to be pub- 
lished in a separate volume as ' Six Epistles from Ettrick 
Forest.' The first, as of course every one knows, is 
inscribed to William Stewart Rose, a poet who is chiefly 
known for his translation of Ariosto's 'Orlando Furioso.' 
It opens with a fine description of the beginning of win- 
ter at Ashestiel, then turns to thoughts of ' My country's 
wintry state,' and the loss to Britain brought by the 
death of the two rival statesmen, Pitt and Fox, who had 
passed away in the same year, 1806, in which the poem 
was begun. 

The second canto, inscribed to the Rev. John Mar- 
riott, is reminiscent of scenes and incidents of the Et- 
trick Forest. The third canto is the most important of 

50 



MARMION 

all because of its autobiographic character. It is ad- 
dressed to William Erskine, a warm friend of the poet's 
youth, in whose literary judgment Scott reposed the 
firmest faith. He had been from the beginning a kind of 
literary monitor, sympathizing fully with Scott's feeling 
for the picturesque side of Scottish life, but strongly 
urging him to follow more closely the masters of poetry 
in some of the minor graces of arrangement and diction. 
This the poet declares is impossible, and exclaims: — 

Though wild as cloud, as stream, as gale 
Flow forth, flow unrestrained, my tale! 

In this Introduction the poet's mind reverts to the 
scenes of his childhood, the old farm at Sandy Knowe, 
where he lived with his grandfather, and the ancient 
tower of Smailholm near by. 

Then rise those crags, that mountain tower, 
Which charmed my fancy's wakening hour. 



It was a barren scene and wild, 

Where naked cliffs were rudely piled, 

But ever and anon between 

Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green; 

And well the lonely infant knew 

Recesses where the wall-flower grew, 

And honeysuckle loved to crawl 

Up the low crag and ruined wall. 

I deemed such nooks the sweetest shade 

The sun in all its round surveyed. 

The preparation for the writing of 'Marmion' began 
right here, for the love of martial tales so early implanted 
in the poet's breast never ceased to grow until it reached 
its full maturity. 

While stretched at length upon the floor, 
Again I fought each combat o'er, 

51 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Pebbles and shells, in order laid, 
The mimic ranks of war displayed; 
And onward still the Scottish lion bore, 
And still the scattered Southron fled before. 

The fourth canto is inscribed to the poet's artist friend, 
James Skene, with whom he made many an excursion 
on horseback through the Border country. It recalls 
many memories of summer days and winter nights, hap- 
pily spent with mutual friends. The fifth is addressed to 
George Ellis, a man of wide knowledge of poetry and 
extensive literary attainments, with whom Scott was on 
terms of almost brotherly intimacy. It was written 
from Edinburgh, more than a year after the beginning 
of the poem, and is distinguished by a fine outburst of 
enthusiasm for the poet's native city, 'Caledonia's 
Queen.' The sixth canto and the last is dedicated to 
Richard Heber, who had rendered able assistance in the 
preparation of the 'Border Minstrelsy.' He was a mem- 
ber of Parliament for Oxford and a man of profound 
knowledge of the literary monuments of the Middle 
Ages. He possessed an extensive library to which he 
gave the poet free access, and his oral commentaries 
were scarcely less important. The introduction was 
written at Mertoun House, where Scott had gone to 
spend the Christmas season at the home of the head of 
his clan. 

Heap on more wood! — the wind is chill; 

But let it whistle as it will, 

We '11 keep our Christmas merry still. 

A brief review of the well-known narrative will serve 
to point out the most important of the many interesting 
and often beautiful scenes which the poet so graphically 

52 



MARMION 

describes. The story opens, as everybody knows, at 

Norham Castle at close of day, when Lord Marmion, 

mounted on his red-roan charger, proudly enters, — 

Armed from head to heel 
In mail and plate of Milan steel, 

with helm richly embossed with burnished gold and sur- 
mounted by a flowing crest, amid which 

A falcon hovered on her nest, 

With wings outspread and forward breast. 

He was followed by two gallant and ambitious squires; 
then came four men-at-arms 'with halbert, bill, and 
battle-axe,' bearing their chieftain's lance and pennon; 
and finally twenty yeomen, each a chosen archer who 
could bend a six-foot bow, and all with falcons embroid- 
ered on their breasts. They were welcomed with blare 
of trumpets and the martial salute of cannon, making a 
clangor, such as the old turrets of Norham had seldom 
heard. Marmion responded to the noisy welcome of 
soldiers and minstrels by a lavish distribution of gold 
and was ushered into the presence of Sir Hugh the Heron, 
with whom he spent the hours till midnight in sumptu- 
ous feasting. 

Norham Castle, the ruins of which we reached at the 
close of day, after a long tour by motor from Berwick, 
was once a magnificent mansion and fortress, standing 
on high ground overlooking the Tweed. For a thousand 
years it was the scene of alternating peace and turmoil. 
Founded in the seventh century, it passed from English 
to Scottish hands and back again for many years. By 
the beginning of the thirteenth century it had become 
one of the strongest of English fortresses. James IV 
captured it just before the battle of Flodden Field, but 

S3 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

after that event the English recovered it. For the past 

three hundred years it has been crumbling to ruins, and 

now there is little left except a single wall and a remnant 

of the 

sable palisade, 
That closed the castle barricade 

before which Marmion's bugle-horn was sounded. 

Like so many of Scott's characters, Marmion, though 
a fictitious personage, moved among the real people of 
history and could boast a genuine ancestry. There was a 
distinguished family of Marmion, Lords of Fontenoy in 
Normandy, one of whom became a follower of William 
the Conqueror and received a grant of the castle and 
tower of Tamworth and the manor of Scrivelby, in 
Lincolnshire. The family became extinct in the latter 
part of the thirteenth century. 

In the second canto the scene changes to St. Cuth- 
bert's Holy Isle, where Constance de Beverley is a pris- 
oner. She had broken her vows as a nun and deserted 
the convent to follow Marmion, in the guise of a page, 
as his paramour — 

And forfeited to be bis slave 

All here, and all beyond the grave. 

The island, so called, is on the English coast of the North 
Sea, about ten miles southeast of Berwick. We reached 
it by crossing the sands in a two- wheeled vehicle, some- 
thing like an Irish jaunting-car, in which springless 
instrument of torture we were compelled to travel about 
three miles. At intervals along the route there are little 
groups of poles standing in the water, with miniature 
platforms near the top. These are havens of refuge. If 

54 



MARMION 

you get caught by the rising tides you have only to make 
for one of these, and, after watching your horse drown, 
wait for five or six hours until, with the turn of the tide, 
somebody comes along to rescue you. Our enterprising 
Jehu assured us that the tide would be running out, and 
that there was no danger. But when about halfway 
over we began to notice that the ride was rising, and 
the water was soon nearly up to the bed of the wagon. 
We had made the entire journey in the face of a rising 
tide and reached the island none too soon, for it was 
nearly high tide. 

Cuthbert, the patron saint of the Holy Island, flour- 
ished in the seventh century. He was a prior of the orig- 
inal Melrose Abbey — not the one which is now a ruin in 
the town of that name, but its predecessor which occupied 
a site farther down the Tweed. Later he became Prior 
of Lindisfarne and afterward Bishop. The ruins of the 
abbey show that it must have been a very extensive 
establishment of great antiquity. Besides the founda- 
tion stones, little now remains except part of the walls 
of the church which are best described in the poet's 
words: — 

In Saxon strength that abbey frowned, 
With massive arches broad and round, 
That rose alternate, row and row, 
On ponderous columns, short and low, 
Built ere the art was known 
By pointed aisle and shafted stalk 
The arcades of an alleyed walk 
To emulate in stone. 

We searched in vain for the dreadful 'Vault of Peni- 
tence,' the awful dungeon below the abbey, its position 
known only by the abbot, to which both victim and 

55 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

executioner were led blindfold. There is no trace of any 
underground vaults nor of anything resembling the 
niche where poor Constance was immured, to die a slow 
death from starvation. As a matter of fact, Lindisfarne 
was never a convent at all. But at Coldingham Abbey, 
on the coast of Scotland not many miles away, there was 
discovered, in Scott's time, a female skeleton which, 
from the shape of the niche and the position of the 
figure, seemed to be that of a nun immured very much 
as Constance was supposed to have been. 

Returning to Norham Castle, and continuing the 
narrative, we find Marmion and his men preparing to 
depart at an early hour of the morning following their 
arrival. Guided by the supposed Holy Palmer, they 
travelled all day, following the mountain paths straight 
across the Lammermuir Hills, in a northwesterly direc- 
tion, until at close of day they came to the village of 
Gifford, four or five miles south of the town of Hadding- 
ton. A night at the village inn, a weird ghost story by 
the landlord, and a strange, uncanny adventure of Mar- 
mion resulting from it, complete the experiences of the 
first twenty-four hours. The next day the travellers 
meet a messenger from the King, Sir David Lindsay, by 
whom they are escorted to Crichton Castle and enter- 
tained in royal magnificence. We found the ruins of this 
picturesque old castle on the banks of the Tyne, a dozen 
miles southeast from Edinburgh. From his boyhood 
they had exercised a fascinating influence upon the poet. 

Crichtoun! though now thy miry court 
But pens the lazy steer and sheep, 
Thy turrets rude and tottered keep 

Have been the minstrel's loved resort. 

56 



MARMION 

During his school days, Scott took many a vacation 
tramp to visit the scenes in the neighbourhood of Edin- 
burgh which appealed to his fancy, and nothing ever 
made a stronger appeal than some old ruin to which was 
attached a bit of history or legend. Referring to the 
time when he was about thirteen years old, he says, in 
the brief fragment of his 'Autobiography': — 

To this period I can trace distinctly the awaking of that 
delightful feeling for the beauties of natural objects which 
has never since deserted me. . . . The romantic feelings which 
I have described as predominating in my mind, naturally 
rested upon and associated themselves with these grand 
features of the landscape around me; and the historical inci- 
dents, or traditional legends connected with many of them, 
gave to my admiration a sort of intense impression of rever- 
ence, which at times made my heart feel too big for its bosom. 
From this time the love of natural beauty, more especially 
when combined with ancient ruins, or remains of our fathers' 
piety or splendour, became with me an insatiable passion, 
which, if circumstances had permitted, I would willingly have 
gratified by travelling over half the globe. 

It was with something of this same feeling that the 
poet caused Marmion to travel from Norham to Edin- 
burgh by a circuitous route, in order that he might visit 
Crichton and afterward view Edinburgh from the Black- 
ford Hills. Mr. Guthrie Wright, a friend and relative 
of Scott's friend, Erskine, once asked the poet: 'Why did 
ever mortal coming from England to Edinburgh go by 
Gifford, Crichton Castle, Borthwick Castle, and over the 
top of Blackford Hill? Not only is it a circuitous detour, 
but there never was a road that way since the world was 
created!' 'That is a most irrelevant objection,' said 
Sir Walter; 'it was my good pleasure to bring Marmion 

57 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

by that route, for the purpose of describing the places 
you have mentioned, and the view from Blackford Hill 
— it was his business to find the road and pick his steps 
the best way he could.' 

At Crichton, Marmion heard from Sir David Lind- 
say a legend of King James and the Palace of Linlithgow. 

Of all the palaces so fair 

Built for the royal dwelling 
In Scotland, far beyond compare 

Linlithgow is excelling. 

This famous palace, now a ruin, lies about midway be- 
tween Edinburgh and Glasgow. It is beautifully situ- 
ated on a small loch, from the opposite shores of which 
it makes an imposing appearance. The walls are in a 
good state of preservation and still give some intimations 
of the early magnificence of the royal residence. Three 
of the Stuart kings, James III, IV, and V, occupied it in 
succession. Mary, Queen of Scots, was born here in 
what was once a large and beautiful room. On the 
opposite side of the building is a room ninety-eight feet 
long and thirty feet wide, formerly used by the Scottish 
Parliaments, and the scene of many a state banquet. 
At one end is an immense fireplace which still remains in 
almost perfect condition. In the large court are the re- 
mains of a fine fountain, with elaborate carvings, erected 
by James V in anticipation of his marriage with the 
Princess Madeleine of France. The most striking feature 
of the palace is Queen Margaret's Bower, a lofty turret, 
where it is said the Queen watched all day for her hus- 
band's return from Flodden Field, only to learn of his 
disastrous defeat and death. As I stood on the parapet 
opposite the bower, preparing to make its photograph, 

58 



MARMION 

the custodian reminded me that I was standing where 
many famous people used to promenade. 

Adjoining the palace is the ancient church of St. 
Michael's, where, according to Lindsay's story, King 
James received the ghostly visitor in the semblance of the 
Apostle John, bearing the prophetic warning: — 

'My mother sent me from afar, 
Sir King, to warn thee not to war, — 

Woe waits on thine array; 
If war thou wilt, of woman fair, 
Her witching wiles and wanton snare, 
James Stuart, doubly warned, beware: 

God keep thee as he may!' 

From Crichton the journey to the Scottish camp was 
resumed, and the party now traverses ground even more 
familiar to the poet: — 

Early they took Dun-Edin's road, 
And I could trace each step they trode; 
Hill, brook, nor dell, nor rock, nor stone, 
Lies on the path to me unknown. 

Over this well-worn road they reached the top of Black- 
ford Hill, and the view that met their eyes aroused an 
enthusiasm that even Marmion, sullen warrior that he 
was, could scarcely suppress. The Scottish camp, lying 
on the plain below, is painted in all the colours of the 
rainbow: — 

A thousand streamers flaunted fair; 
Various in shape, device, and hue, 
Green, sanguine, purple, red, and blue. 

The city, too, is pictured in colours no less vivid and 
glows ' with gloomy splendour, red.' The Ochil Moun- 
tains, reflecting the morning rays are like a 'purple ame- 

59 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

thyst'; the islands in the Firth are like 'emeralds chased 
in gold'; and a 'dusky grandeur clothed the height, 
where the huge castle holds its state.' 

The scene which Marmion saw, the poet admits, was 
far different in his own time; and it has changed, per- 
haps, even more since Sir Walter's day, for the plain 
where King James's army lay is now filled with well- 
built cottages. But the dominating features of the view, 
the huge castle on the left, Arthur's Seat and the Salis- 
bury Crags on the right, Calton Hill, and the crown- 
shaped steeple of St. Giles still remain to command our 
admiration and delight. 

Passing through the Scottish camp, Marmion and his 
train soon came to Holyrood Palace. The tower on the 
left was built by James IV as a royal palace in 1498- 
1503. In the latter year it was the scene of the mar- 
riage of the King to Princess Margaret, the daughter 
of Henry VII of England. The wedding was celebrated 
with great magnificence. Here Marmion is received 
by the King, who, on the night before marching to the 
south, is making Holyrood ring with 'wassail, mirth, 
and glee.' He is devoting much attention to the wife 
of Sir Hugh the Heron, who sings for him the song 
of the young Lochinvar. A glance, thrown by 'the 
witching dame' to Marmion, arouses the jealous dis- 
pleasure of the King, and Marmion is hurried off to 
Tantallon Castle, under conduct of the owner of that 
stronghold, Douglas, Earl of Angus, known as Archi- 
bald Bell-the-Cat. Tantallon is on the north coast of 
Haddingtonshire, near the town of North Berwick. The 
ruins still remain, 

Broad, massive, high, and stretching far. 
60 



MARMION 

They stand on a high, projecting rock, guarded on three 
sides by the ocean, while on the land side the remnant 
of the ' double mound and fosse' may still be seen. The 
castle was a favourite residence of the Douglas family, 
though its fame owes less to history than to the genius of 
Sir Walter. It was here that Marmion dared 

To beard the lion in his den 
The Douglas in his hall, — 

and in defiance of Lord Angus gave utterance to one of 
those dramatic passages which have made the poem 
linger so long in the memory of all its readers. This is 
one of the chief characteristics of Scott's poetry, that 
certain lines will insist upon 'running in one's head.' 
George Ellis pointed out the significant fact that ' every- 
body reads Marmion more than once' and that it im- 
proves on second reading. Perhaps this is why so 
many people can quote freely from the poem, particular- 
ly such passages as the quarrel of Marmion andDouglas. 
From Tantallon, Marmion and his men, with the Lady 
Clare, proceed to Flodden Field, reaching at eve the 
convent of Lennel where 'now is left but one frail arch.' 
This resting place is on the river Tweed just below the 
town of Coldstream and not far from the famous ford at 
the mouth of the river Leet, used by Edward I in the 
invasion of Scotland near the close of the thirteenth cen- 
tury and by the contending armies of England and Scot- 
land for nearly four hundred years afterward. Over this 
ford Marmion rushes impetuously to throw himself 
into the thick of the battle. 

Then on that dangerous ford and deep 
Where to the Tweed Leet's eddies creep 
He ventured desperately: 

61 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

And not a moment will he bide 
Till squire or groom before him ride; 
Headmost of all he stems the tide, 
And stems it gallantly. 

Sir Walter wrote this passage, and many more like it, 
from experience, for it was one of his chief delights to 
ford a stream. James Skene said he believed there was 
not a single ford in the whole course of the Tweed that 
he and Scott had not traversed together. 'He had an 
amazing fondness for fords, and was not a little adventur- 
ous in plunging through, whatever might be the state of 
the flood, and this even though there happened to be a 
bridge in view. If it seemed possible to scramble through, 
he scorned to go ten yards about, and in fact preferred 
the ford.' There was a ford at Ashestiel that was never 
a good one. At one time, after a severe storm, it became 
quite perilous. Scott was the first to attempt the pas- 
sage, which he accomplished in safety, thanks to his 
steady nerve and good horsemanship, for his favourite 
black horse, Captain, was obliged to swim nearly the 
whole distance across. 

Many of the landmarks df Flodden Field may still be 
seen. The Twisel Bridge over which the English crossed 
the Till; Ford Castle, the residence of Sir William Heron, 
whom Scott transfers to Norham, changing his name to 
Hugh; Etal Castle, which with Ford, Norham, and 
Wark was captured by King James; a remnant of the 
old cross in the field where Marmion died; the well of 
Sybil Grey, a spring running into a small stone basin, 
upon which has been cut an inscription something like 
that referred to in the poem; and 'Marmion's well' at 
the edge of the village of Branxton, which the local 

62 



MARMION 

inhabitants are certain is the real spring where Clare 
filled Marmion's helm with the cooling water, — all 
these are easily visited in a day's drive. On the summit 
of Piper's Hill a monument has been erected, marking 
the spot where King James fell. 

The King failed to heed the warning given in Linlith- 
gow. He insisted upon going to war and wasted too 
much precious time with the Lady Heron. As a result 
he seemed to do everything that a good general would 
not have done and he failed to do all that a competent 
leader would have done. The poet gives full vent to his 
righteous indignation: — 

And why stands Scotland idly now, 
Dark Flodden! on thy airy brow, 
Since England gains the pass the while, 
And struggles through the deep defile? 
What checks the fiery soul of James? 
Why sits that champion of the dames 
Inactive on his steed? 



Douglas, for thy leading wand! 
Fierce Randolph for thy speed! 
Oh! for one hour of Wallace wight, 
Or well-skilled Bruce, to rule the fight 
And cry, 'Saint Andrew and our right!' 
Another sight had seen that morn, 
From Fate's dark book a leaf been torn, 
And Flodden had been Bannockbourne. 

The King fell, bravely fighting, it is said, within a 
lance's length of the Earl of Surrey. The noblest of the 
Scottish army lay dead and dying about the field. Never 
before in Scottish history had there been so great a dis- 
aster as that 

Of Flodden's fatal field 
Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear 
And broken was her shield! 

63 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Richard H. Hutton thinks that Scott's description of 
war in this account is perhaps the most perfect which 
the English language contains, and that ' Marmion ' is 
Scott's finest poem. ' The Battle of Flodden Field,' he 
says, 'touches his highest point in its expression of stern, 
patriotic feeling, in its passionate love of daring, and in 
the force and swiftness of its movement, no less than in 
the brilliancy of its romantic interests, the charm of its 
picturesque detail, and the glow of its scenic colouring.' 

Lockhart, whose judgment must always be regarded, 
also believed 'Marmion' to be the greatest of Scott's 
poems, because of its 'superior strength and breadth 
and boldness both of conception and execution.' It has 
been severely criticized. That Marmion, a knight of 
many noble qualities, should have been guilty of the 
contemptible crime of forgery, is a blot which Scott 
himself acknowledged. Mr. Andrew Lang thinks that 
'our age could easily dispense with Clara and her lover.' 
George Ellis, on the contrary, thought it too short,' that 
'the masterly character of Constance would not have 
been less bewitching had it been much more minutely 
painted — and that De Wilton might have been dilated 
with great ease and even to considerable advantage.' 
Lord Jeffrey denounced it in characteristic fashion as 
an 'imitation of obsolete extravagance.' Such a thing, 
he thought, might be excused for once as a 'pretty 
caprice of genius,' but a second production imposed 'a 
sort of duty to drive the author from so idle a task.' 

But Jeffrey's crabbed remarks were universally con- 
demned as unjust and the public responded to 'Mar- 
mion ' with enthusiasm. Scott had painted a picture full 
of lofty patriotism and glowing with life and colour. 

64 



MARMION 

He had glorified his native city with a fervour that went 
straight to the hearts of its people. The bravery of the 
Scottish troops as they rallied around their king and 
fought to the bitter end seemed to turn the worst disas- 
ter in their history into a scene of which every Scotch- 
man might well be proud. The great chieftains of Scot- 
land had been exalted. The hills and mountains, the 
rivers and brooks, and all the delightful scenes of the 
southern border had been painted in charming colours. 
And so the poet had touched the pride of his countrymen 
and if there were faults of composition or of diction they 
saw them not. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

The most popular of all Scott's poems, as 'The Lady of 
the Lake' has proved to be, is in reality a romantic 
story set to music and staged in an environment of won- 
drous natural beauty. It is like an open-air play, but 
with this advantage, that the audience seems to move 
continually from one scene of beauty to another, each 
more entrancing than the one before. You may travel 
from Stirling to Loch Katrine and from the Trossachs to 
the Braes of Balquhidder and all the time feel the thrill 
of the poem, which seems fairly to permeate the atmos- 
phere. It is full of incident, and there is never a dull 
moment from the beginning of the stag hunt in the soli- 
tudes of Glenartney to the final scenes of generosity and 
gratitude, of love and joyous reunion, in the King's 
Palace of Stirling Castle. The characters are types, 
each presenting a poetic interest of his own, of a race of 
men famous in history and in song for deeds of personal 
prowess, for skill in the use of claymore and battle-axe, 
for loyalty to friends, for bitter resentment of wrongs, for 
courage, for endurance, for hospitality, for love of music 
and poetry, for strength of physique and for picturesque 
personal appearance and attire. 

The spell of the Wizard of the North came upon us as 
we entered the enchanted land and his whole company 
of players appeared as if by magic. In the centre of the 
group there seemed to be the figure of a young woman, 

66 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

pure, beautiful, and good — yet not too good to be 
human, for she was at least sensitive to the admiring 
glances of a certain handsome, well-built, and courteous 
stranger. But Ellen Douglas was nevertheless true to 
her accepted lover, faithful to her father, and loyal to 
her own ideals of truth and right. 

And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 
A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace 
Of finer form or lovelier face. 



A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid: 

Her satin snood, her silken plaid, 

Her golden brooch, such birth betrayed. 

And seldom was a snood amid 

Such wild, luxuriant ringlets hid 

Whose glossy black to shame might bring 

The plumage of the raven's wing: 

And seldom o'er a breast so fair 

Mantled a plaid with modest care, 

And never brooch the folds combined 

Above a heart more good and kind. 

Grouped about the maiden were the figures of a Low- 
land king, a Highland chieftain, a stalwart father, and a 
sturdy lover. The first two presented a striking con- 
trast. The King, disguised as a hunter in Lincoln green, 
with a bold visage upon which middle age had not yet 
quenched the fiery vehemence of youth; with sturdy 
limbs fitted for any kind of active sport or contest; with 
stately mien and ready speech, 'in phrase of gentlest 
courtesy ' ; jovial, kindly, even gleeful and frolicsome at 
times, with the will to do and the soul to dare, made a 
splendid picture as he stood upon the Silver Strand, face 
to face with Ellen Douglas. Far different was the sullen 
visage of Roderick Dhu, as 

67 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode: 
The waving of his tartan broad, 
And darkened brow, where wounded pride 
With ire and disappointment vied, 
Seemed, by the torch's gloomy light, 
Like the ill Demon of the night. 

Yet in spite of the fierce aspect of this terrible chief, 
one cannot withhold his admiration, and we feel like 
echoing the shout of enthusiasm of the cheering boatmen 
as they approach the island, singing, — 

Loud should Clan-Alpine then 
Ring from her deepmost glen, 
Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe! 

When Roderick scorns to take advantage of Fitz- James, 
though the latter is in his power, and shares with him his 
camp-fire, his supper, and his bed, finally conducting 
him in safety through hundreds of hostile Highlanders 
to the very limits of Clan-Alpine's territory, there to 
battle single-handed and on equal terms, we begin to feel 
what real Highland hospitality and chivalry mean and to 
realize the true nobility of character beneath the rough 
exterior of this stern soldier. 

Ellen's father, the exiled Douglas, was a giant in 
stature who could wield as lightly as a hazel wand a 
sword which other men could scarcely lift. 

The women praised his stately form, 
Though wrecked by many a winter's storm; 
The youth with awe and wonder saw 
His strength surpassing Nature's law. 

Contrasting with this fine old man was Malcolm Graeme, 
Ellen's lover: — 

Of stature fair, and slender frame 
But firmly knit was Malcolm Graeme. 

68 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

The belted plaid and tartan hose 
Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose; 
His flaxen hair, of sunny hue, 
Curled closely round the bonnet blue. 

His mind was 'lively and ardent, frank and kind,' and 
he had a scorn of wrong and a zeal for truth that prom- 
ised to make his name one of the greatest in the moun- 
tains. But poor Malcolm was to the poet's mind not an 
artistic success. The latter confessed that he compelled 
him to swim from Ellen's Isle to the shore merely to give 
him something to do, but 'wet or dry,' he said, 'I could 
do nothing with him.' 

Behind these five figures we could fancy a white- 
haired minstrel, harp in hand; a hermit monk, in frock 
and hood, barefooted, with grizzled hair and matted 
beard, naked arms and legs seamed with scars, and a wild 
and savage face that spoke of nothing but despair; three 
young men in kilt skirts and Highland plaids, every 
movement showing the agile strength of their youthful 
limbs, passing from one to another a cross of fire, — 
Malise, Angus, and Norman, the messengers who sum- 
moned the clans to battle; and back of all, filling up the 
picture, Highlanders of high and low degree, men, 
women, and children, all fired with intense loyalty to the 
Clan-Alpine. The whole picture seemed to project itself 
upon a background of mountains and valleys, lakes, 
rivers and waterfalls, fantastic rocks and weather- 
beaten crags, grey birches and warrior oaks, ferns and 
wild flowers, all 

So wondrous wild, the whole might seem 
The scenery of a fairy dream. 

Scott was always fond of brilliant hues, but here he 
fairly revels in colour: — 

69 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

The western waves of ebbing day 
Rolled o'er the glen their level way: 
Each purple peak, each flinty spire, 
Was bathed in floods of living fire. 

All twinkling with the dew-drop sheen, 
The brier rose fell in streamers green 
And creeping shrubs of thousand dyes 
Waved in the west wind's summer sighs. 

Boon nature scattered, free and wild, 
Each plant or flower, the mountain's child, 
Here eglantine embalmed the air, 
Hawthorn and hazel mingled there: 
The primrose pale and violet flower 
Found in each clift a narrow bower. 

The best way to read 'The Lady of the Lake' is to see 
the Trossachs; the best way to see the Trossachs is to 
read ' The Lady of the Lake.' There is a peculiar affinity 
between the poem and the country that makes each 
indispensable to the other. Those who read the poem 
without some knowledge of the scenery are likely to 
have an inadequate conception of its real significance, or 
possibly to feel that the poet has painted in colours too 
vivid and that his enthusiasm is not perhaps fully justi- 
fied by the facts. Those who see the Trossachs without 
reading the poem are apt to say, as one man did say to 
me, 'Yes, this is beautiful, but after all I have seen just 
such roads in New Hampshire.' He might have added, 
'The Rocky Mountains are much higher and more sub- 
lime, and the Italian lakes reflect a sky of more brilliant 
blue and are bordered by foliage infinitely more gorgeous 
in its colourings,' — all of which is true. But when you 
come to read the poem with a mental vision of the Tros- 

70 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

sachs before you and to see the Trossachs with the 
exquisite descriptions of the poem fully in mind, each 
acquires a new charm which alone it did not possess. 

Before the poem was written the Trossachs were 
scarcely known and Loch Katrine was no more than any 
other Highland lake. Now these regions are visited 
yearly by thousands of tourists and to those who know 
the poem, every turn in the road seems to suggest some 
favourite stanza. To us the tour was one of unfailing 
delight and productive of mental visions that will never 
fade. The Brig o' Turk is to me not merely an old stone 
bridge over a placid rivulet; but, rushing over it at full 
speed, eagerly spurring his fine grey horse to further 
effort, I see the figure of a gallant hunter clad in a close- 
fitting suit of green, his eyes intently fixed on the road 
ahead, where a splendid stag, now nearly exhausted, is 
straining his last ounce of energy in a final effort to dis- 
tance the pursuing hounds. To me the low ground on 
the edge of Loch Vennachar, known as Lanrick Mead, 
appears like a military camp, with great crowds of giant 
clansmen, in Highland kilts and plaids of many colours, 
their spears and battle-axes glistening in the sun. The 
aged oak, bending over the water's edge on Ellen's Isle, 
is not merely an old dead tree, but it brings the vision of 
Ellen Douglas putting forth in her frail shallop to answer 
(as she supposes) the bugle call of her noble father from 
the Silver Strand. 

This is the secret charm of the Trossachs. The tourist 
who goes through, as many do, with whole-hearted devo- 
tion to the time-table and guide-book, and whose mind is 
fixed upon the absolute necessity of 'making' all the 
points in his itinerary, does not see these scenes any 

7i 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

more than do the horses who draw the lumbering coaches. 
The more leisurely traveller who can follow the course of 
the poem, viewing each scene as Scott has so charmingly 
described it, finds exhilaration and delight in every step 
of the way. 

Scott was only fifteen when he began to make those 
merry expeditions to the Highlands in the company of 
congenial companions which gave him so much material 
of the right kind as to make a poem inevitable. He 
learned to know the strange but romantic Highland 
clansmen; he heard many tales and bits of history which 
his memory stored up for the future, and the rare beauty 
of the scenery fascinated him as it does every one else. 
'This poem,' he said, 'the action of which lay among 
scenes so beautiful and so deeply imprinted on my recol- 
lections, was a labour of love and it was no less so to 
recall the memories and incidents introduced.' 

In one of these excursions (in 1793), he visited the 
home of the young Laird of Cambusmore, John Bucha- 
nan, one of his associates, and subsequently revisited 
the place many times. Cambusmore is a charming 
estate about two miles southeast of Callander. Entering 
by the porter's gate, we drove through a beautiful wind- 
ing road, lined with rhododendrons. The shrubs, or 
rather trees (for their extraordinary height and wide- 
spreading branches entitle them to the more dignified 
name), were in full bloom, thousands of great, splendid 
clusters vying with each other to see which could catch 
and reflect the most sunlight. Here we were hospitably 
received by the present owner, Mrs. Hamilton, a great- 
granddaughter of Scott's friend, John Buchanan. The 
house has been considerably enlarged, but the older por- 

72 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

tion, thickly covered with ivy, is very much as it was 
when Scott was a guest and sat on the porch, listening to 
the story of Buchanan's ancestors. While he was writ- 
ing 'The Lady of the Lake,' Scott revisited Cambusmore 
and recited parts of the poem to Mrs. Hamilton's grand- 
father. He also demonstrated, by actually performing 
the feat himself, that it would be possible for a horseman 
to ride from the foot of Loch Vennachar to Stirling Cas- 
tle in the time allotted to Fitz- James. 

From the road in front of this mansion, far away to the 
north, but faintly visible through the trees, we could see 
the 'wild heaths of Uam Var,' where the stag first sought 
refuge when, driven by the deep baying of the hounds, he 
left the cool shades of Glenartney's hazel woods. From 
another side we caught a fine glimpse of what the hunts- 
men saw 

When rose Ben Ledi's ridge in air. 

These hills of Scotland have witnessed many a hunt 
where scores of men dashed wildly after the frightened 
game. But no stag, ever before or since, has been pur- 
sued by so many eager hunters as the creature of Scott's 
fancy. We joined in the hunt, as all tourists are supposed 
to do, provided they have the time, which many, espe- 
cially Americans, have not, for as one Scotchman put it, 
'they go through so fast, sir, that you could set a tea- 
table on their coat-tails, sir.' 

We saw 'the varied realms of fair Menteith,' a lovely 
little lake with irregular shores and studded with bright 
green islands. I remember I had to walk a long way over 
a lonely heath to get my picture of the lake, and that I 
was closely followed by a large flock of angry plovers 

73 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

who feared that I might harm their nests. They flew 
so close that I had to keep one arm above my head for 
defence, and all the time they were screaming vocifer- 
ously. 

We visited 'far Loch Ard' and Aberfoyle, both asso- 
ciated more closely with Rob Roy. We found 

the copsewood grey 
That waved and wept on Loch Achray; 

and climbed up among 

the pine trees blue 
On the bold cliffs of Ben Venue. 

We passed along 'Bocastle's heath' and reached the 
shores of Loch Vennachar, more fortunate than the 
huntsmen of the poem, most of whom gave up from sheer 
exhaustion before they reached that place. For, 

when the Brig o' Turk was won, 
The headmost horseman rode alone. 

This picturesque old stone bridge, spanning the little 
stream that waters the valley of Glen Finglas, is the 
entrance to the Trossachs, a region, as the name implies, 
of wild and rugged beauty. 

Alone, but with unbated zeal, 
That horseman plied the scourge and steel; 
For jaded now, and spent with toil, 
Embossed with foam, and dark with soil, 
While every gasp with sobs he drew, 
The labouring stag strained full in view. 

Thus the race went along the shore of Loch Achray until 
they reached the dense woods that lie between this little 
lake and Loch Katrine. Then just as the hunter, — 

Already glorying in the prize, 
Measured his antlers with his eyes, 

74 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

the wily stag dashed suddenly down a darksome glen 
and disappeared 

In the deep Trossach's wildest nook. 

The place thus indicated may be reached by leaving 
the fine wagon road and walking up the hill on the right 
by a path that leads along a little rill to a dense thicket, 
over which hang some rugged cliffs. We spent a pleasant 
Sunday afternoon exploring the dark ravines, — 

Where twined the path in shadow hid, 
Round many a rocky pyramid, 
Shooting abruptly from the dell 
Its thunder-splintered pinnacle. 

This is one of the most delightful spots in the Trossachs, 
though never seen by the thousands who whirl through 
all this enchanted land in a single day, packed five or 
six in a seat on a jolting coach, breathing the dust of 
the road and frittering away their golden opportunity 
in idle chatter. You cannot catch the spirit of this wild 
and rugged region unless you walk into the unfre- 
quented parts and see the 'native bulwarks of the pass/ 
where 

The rocky summits, split and rent, 

Formed turret, dome, or battlement, 

Or seemed fantastically set 

With cupola or minaret. 

Here Fitz- James found himself alone and on foot, for 
his good grey horse had fallen, exhausted, never to rise 
again. Marvelling at the beauty of the scene, he wan- 
dered on, until, seeing no pathway by which to issue 
from the glen, he climbed a ' far-projecting precipice ' ; 
when suddenly there burst upon his sight the grandest 
view of all, Loch Katrine, — 

75 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

gleaming with the setting sun 
One burnished sheet of living gold. 

As sentinels guarding an enchanted land, two moun- 
tains stood like giants: on the south rose Ben Venue, its 
sides strewn with rough volcanic rocks and its summit 'a 
wildering forest feathered o'er': on the north 'Ben An 
heaved high his forehead bare.' 

The stranger stood enraptured and amazed. Then, 
thinking to call some straggler of his train, he blew a 
loud blast upon his horn. To his great surprise the sound 
was answered by a little skiff which glided forth 

From underneath an aged oak 
That slanted from the islet's rock. 

The old oak was the supposed landing place of Ellen 
Douglas on what has since been known as 'Ellen's Isle.' 
The oak, old in Scott's day, is dead now, but singularly 
enough it died not of old age but by drowning. Loch 
Katrine is now the reservoir that supplies the city of 
Glasgow. In preparing it for this service the engineers 
raised the level of the lake about twenty-five feet, creat- 
ing many new islands to keep the 'lone islet' company, 
and completely submerging the 'Silver Strand' so often 
mentioned in the poem. But the beauty of the lake has 
not been marred, and the scenes, though changed, are 
still as lovely as when they aroused the poetic fervour 
of Sir Walter Scott. 

The visitor who takes the trouble, as we did, to row 
out to Ellen's Isle, will find nothing to suggest the im- 
agined home of Roderick Dhu and the temporary shelter 
of the Douglas and his daughter. But he will have an 
excellent opportunity to indulge his fancy and call back 

76 




GLENFINGLAS 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

to memory the stirring incidents which served to bring 
together all the leading people of the tale. He may stand 
on the shore of the island and see the barges, filled with 
the warriors of Roderick Dhu, bearing down upon him, 
their spears, pikes, and axes flashing and their banners, 
plaids, and plumage dancing in the air. He may hear 
the sound of the war-pipes and the chorus of the clans- 
men as they shout their chieftain's praise. Then, as the 
storm of war rises higher and higher, he may fancy Brian 
the Hermit with wild incantations calling the clans to 
battle and uttering a terrible curse upon any who failed 
to heed the summons. He may see the fiery Cross placed 
in the hands of the young Malise, and watch the fleet 
messenger as he crosses the lake to the Silver Strand 
where he lightly bounds ashore. Then, if he be a real 
enthusiast, he may follow the course of the fiery cross. 
Malise carried it through the Trossachs, and along the 
shore of Loch Achray to the hamlet of Duncraggan, just 
beyond the Brig o' Turk, and in sight of Lanrick Mead, 
the gathering-place of the clans. Then young Angus, the 
stripling son of Duncan, seized the fatal symbol, and 
hurried over the mountains, crossing the southern slopes 
of Ben Ledi, until, reaching the river Leny at the outlet 
of Loch Lubnaig, he swam the stream, and after a des- 
perate struggle with the swollen torrent, reached the 
opposite bank at the chapel of St. Bride. No chapel 
now exists, but a stone wall marks the site where the 
little church once stood, and within the enclosure is a 
single grave. As Angus arrived, a little wedding party 
was issuing from the churchyard gate. The dreadful 
sign of fire and sword was thrust into the hands of Nor- 
man, the bridegroom, and the command given to ' speed 

77 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

forth the signal.' Not daring to look a second time upon 
the tearful face of his lovely bride, Norman manfully 
seized the torch and hurried to the north. He followed 
the shores of Loch Lubnaig and the swampy course of 
the river Balvaig, then, turning sharply to the left, 
entered the Braes of Balquhidder and passed along the 
northern shores of Loch Voil and Loch Doine, two lovely 
little Highland lakes that lie hidden away in the solitude 
of the hills. Thence, turning to the south, he crossed the 
intervening mountains until he came to the valley of 
Strathgartney on the northern shore of Loch Katrine. 

The scene now changes to the slopes of Ben Venue, a 
rugged mountain peak, towering high above the south- 
eastern end of Loch Katrine and dominating the entire 
region of the Trossachs. On the side nearest the lake is a 
confused mass of huge volcanic rocks overhung here and 
there by scraggly oaks or birches. Ancient Celtic tradi- 
tion assigned this wild spot to the Urisk or shaggy men 
whose form was part man, part goat, like the satyrs of 
Greek mythology. In later times the Celtic name of Coir- 
nan-Uriskin gave way to the more euphonious title of the 
Goblin Cave. To this 'wild and strange retreat/ fit 
only for wolves and wild-cats, Douglas brought his 
daughter for safety. Roderick Dhu, hovering about the 
place like a restless ghost, heard the soft voice of Ellen, 
singing her 'Hymn to the Virgin.' Then, goaded by the 
thought that he should never hear that angel voice again, 
the chieftain strode sullenly down the mountain-side, 
and crossing the lake soon rejoined his men at Lanrick 
Mead. 

In the night Douglas silently departed, resolved to go 
to Stirling Castle and give his life as a ransom for his 

78 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

daughter and his friends. In the morning Fitz- James 
found the retreat of Ellen and offered to carry her away 
in safety. But Ellen in simple confidence told of her love 
for Malcolm Graeme, and warned the knight that his 
life was in danger from his treacherous guide. Fitz- 
James then gave a signet ring to Ellen, telling her to 
present it to the King, who would redeem it by granting 
whatever she might ask. The wanderer then went on 
his way, passing through the Trossachs again, where he 
met the half-crazed maid, Blanche of Devon. The poet 
actually saw the original of this strange character in the 
Pass of Glencoe. ' This poor woman, ' he says, ' had placed 
herself in the wildest attitude imaginable upon the very 
top of a huge fragment of rock : she had scarce any cover- 
ing but a tattered plaid, which left her arms, legs, and 
neck bare to the weather. Her long shaggy black hair 
was streaming backwards in the wind and exposed a face 
rather wild and wasted than ugly, and bearing a very 
peculiar expression of frenzy. She had a handful of eagle 
feathers in her hand.' 

Following the dramatic death of Blanche and the 
swift justice to her murderer, the treacherous guide 
Murdoch, comes the well-remembered meeting of Fitz- 
James and Roderick Dhu. Clan-Alpine's chief extended 
to his enemy the hospitality of 'a soldier's couch, a sol- 
dier's fare,' and conducted him safely through countless 
hordes of his own men concealed behind every bush and 
stone until they reached the ford of Coilantogle, at the 
extreme limit of the Highland chief's territory. The 
place is at the outlet of Loch Vennachar, about two 
miles west of Callander, and is readily seen from the 
main road to the Trossachs. Here occurred the terrific 

79 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

combat, so vividly painted by the poet, and Roderick 
was left upon the field, severely wounded, a prisoner in 
the hands of Fitz- James's men, who had responded to 
the bugle call of their leader. The latter, accompanied 
by two of his knights, rode rapidly along the shores of the 
Forth. They passed 'the bannered towers of Doune,' 
now a ruin, which makes a pretty picture seen in the 
distance from the bridge over the river. Pressing on, 
they were soon in sight of Stirling Castle, when Fitz- 
James saw a woodsman 'of stature tall and poor array/ 
and at once recognized 'the stately form and step' of 
Douglas. 

Cambus Kenneth, from which Douglas had just come, 
is a tall square tower on the banks of the Forth, west of 
Stirling. It was once a large abbey, founded in the 
twelfth century and built on the site of the battle-field, 
where the Scots under Kenneth MacAlpine defeated the 
Picts. The tower is all that now remains, but the founda- 
tions of some of the walls show the great extent of the 
structure. Amid the ruins is the grave of King James III, 
over which is a monument erected by Queen Victoria. 
It is supposed to be in exactly the place where King 
James was buried, under the high altar, but is so far 
away from the tower as to indicate that the original 
abbey must have been unusually large. 

Next to Edinburgh Castle, Stirling is the most im- 
posing fortress in Scotland. It stands on a rock four 
hundred and twenty feet above the sea, commanding a 
fine view in every direction. On the esplanade is a 
statue of King Robert the Bruce. The figure is clad in 
chain armour and the king is sheathing his sword, satis- 
fied with his great victory as he gazes toward the field of 

80 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

Bannockburn. Across the valley on the Abbey Craig, 
two miles away, is a tall tower in memory of that other 
great national hero, the mention of whose name still 
brings a tingle into the blood of the loyal Scotsman, 
William Wallace. The castle is entered by a gateway 
between two round towers, beneath one of which is the 
dungeon where Roderick Dhu may be supposed to have 
been carried after the fatal duel. Here one may fancy 
the aged minstrel Allan-bane, singing to the dying chief 
the story of the Battle of BeaP an Duine. A poem that 
can hold the attention of a company of soldiers when 
actually under fire themselves must be thrilling, indeed; 
yet this test was successfully applied to the tale as Scott 
told it through the minstrel. Sir Adam Ferguson re- 
ceived the poem on the day when he was posted with his 
company on a point of ground exposed to the enemy's 
artillery. The men were ordered to lie prostrate on the 
ground, while the captain, kneeling at their head, read 
the description of the battle. The soldiers listened atten- 
tively, only interrupting occasionally with a loud huzza, 
when a shot struck the bank just above their heads. 

On the left of the castle gate is the Royal Palace, 
built by James III and a favourite residence of James IV 
and James V. All the windows have heavy iron bars, 
making the palace look more like a prison than a king's 
mansion. They were placed there for the protection of 
the infant James VI, son of Mary, Queen of Scots. He 
was born in Edinburgh Castle; but considered unsafe 
there, he was lowered over the walls in a basket and 
carried to Stirling Castle. Queen Mary had lived here 
for four years in her childhood and it was here that she 
was secretly married to Darnley. Two years later, on a 

81 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

visit to the castle to see her son, she was intercepted by 
Bothwell and carried away to Dunbar, probably with 
her own connivance, where a month later the two were 
married. James VI, afterward James I of England, spent 
most of his boyhood here, and when he left to assume 
the English crown, Stirling ceased to be a royal residence. 

Among the many strange and much mutilated statues 
on the exterior of the palace is one representing King 
James V as the 'Gudeman of Ballengeich.' It was the 
custom of this king, as it had been of his father, to dis- 
guise himself and mingle with the people, thereby find- 
ing relief from the strain of more serious affairs and 
doubtless learning at first hand what the people thought 
of him. Their opinions must have been favourable, for 
the King enjoyed the experiences and the intercourse 
was always friendly and often amusing. Once on a hunt- 
ing expedition, the King became separated from the 
others of his party and was obliged to spend the night 
at a cottage in the moorlands. The 'gudeman,' like all 
true Highlanders, was extremely hospitable to the stran- 
ger, and ordered the 'gude wife,' to kill for supper the 
plumpest of the hens. The stranger, departing the next 
morning, invited the farmer to call on the ' Gudeman of 
Ballengeich ' when he next visited Stirling. The farmer 
soon accepted the invitation and was much astonished 
to find himself received by the King, who enjoyed his 
confusion most heartily and gave him the facetious 
title, 'King of the Moors.' This story and others like 
it gave the idea to Scott which he so skilfully made 
the basis of 'The Lady of the Lake.' 

Another gateway leads into the upper court, on the 
right of which is the old Parliament House, where 

82 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

the last Scottish Parliament met. At the north end 
of the court is the Chapel Royal. A third gateway leads 
to the Douglas Garden, at the left of which is the 
Douglas Room, where James II treacherously stabbed 
the Earl of Douglas. The latter had visited the castle 
under a safe-conduct granted by the King himself. The 
body was dragged into an adjoining room and thrown 
out of the window. Later it was buried just where it 
fell. Scott makes James Douglas refer to the incident 
as he sadly returns to Stirling to surrender himself and 
die for his family. 

Ye towers, within those circuit dread 
A Douglas by his sovereign bled. 

From the parapet along the walls of this garden, built on 
a rock three hundred feet high, a splendid landscape may 
be seen. Down below appear the windings of the river 
Forth and the old Stirling Bridge, known as the 'Key to 
the Highlands,' the only bridge across the Forth during 
all the stirring times of Scottish history. There too is 
the 'Heading Hill' to which Douglas also refers: — 

And thou, O sad and fatal mound! 
Thou oft hast heard the death-axe sound, 
As on the noblest of the land 
Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand. 

From another place on the wall, far down on the plain 
below, we could see the King's Knot, a curiously shaped, 
octagonal mound of great antiquity, near the base of the 
precipitous rock upon which the castle stands. This 
plain, so easily seen from the castle, was the place where 
many a knightly tournament was held, and it was to this 
castle park that Douglas went to take part in the games, 
so that 

83 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

King James shall mark 
If age has tamed these sinews stark, 
Whose force so oft in happier days 
His boyish wonder loved to praise. 

Here was held the archery contest where Douglas won 
the silver dart; here was the wrestling match where he 
won the golden ring; here his brave dog Lufra pulled 
down the royal stag, and Douglas knocked senseless 
with a single blow the groom who struck his noble 
hound; and from here Douglas was led a captive into the 
fortress. 

Meanwhile Ellen had found her way to the castle deter- 
mined to see the King and with his signet ring beg the 
boon of her father's life. She learned to her astonishment 
that the King and Fitz- James were one, and that her 
suit was granted before it was asked, for the genial mon- 
arch announced Lord James of Douglas as ' a friend and 
bulwark of our throne.' 

The monarch drank, that happy hour, 
The sweetest, holiest draught of Power, — 
When it can say with godlike voice, 
Arise, sad Virtue, and rejoice! 

Then Ellen blushingly craved, through her father, the 
pardon of her lover, and the King in jovial mood com- 
manded Malcolm to stand forth, exclaiming, — 

'Fetters and warder for the Graeme!' 
His chain of gold the King unstrung, 
The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung, 
Then gently drew the glittering band, 
And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. 

Looking out from Stirling Castle over the delightful 
scenery of the Scottish Highlands, made a hundred times 
more lovely by the romantic poem, whose magic has 

84 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

seemed to touch every lake and river, hill and valley, 
with its influence, we felt a strange reluctance to leave 
the scene, akin to that of the poet himself as he bids 
farewell to the Harp of the North: — 

Hark! as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 
Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string! 

'T is now a seraph bold, with touch of fire, 
'T is now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. 

Receding now, the dying numbers ring 
Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell; 

And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring 
A wandering witch-note of the distant spell, 
And now, 't is silent all! — Enchantress, fare thee well! 



CHAPTER V 

ROKEBY 

The town of Barnard Castle, where we arrived one 
evening after a long tour through Yorkshire, is on the 
left bank of the river Tees and on the southern boundary 
of the county of Durham. In the morning we were told 
by 'Boots,' the one man in an English hotel who knows 
everything, that the castle, which gives its name to the 
town, could be reached through the stable-yard back of 
the house. After travelling far out of our way to view 
the setting of Rokeby, which in the natural beauty of 
its scenery is unsurpassed by that of any of Scott's other 
poems, except 'The Lady of the Lake,' the suggestion of 
such an entrance to the locality of the opening stanzas 
was a rude shock to our sense of romantic propriety. 
The reality was worse than the suggestion and we began 
to think that possibly Mr. Boots might have misdirected 
us, supposing we wished to see the barnyard instead of 
Barnard Castle. We proceeded on our way, however, 
soon coming to a small cottage with a pretty little gar- 
den, — nearly every English cottage boasts one of these 
delightful little areas of colour and of fragrance, — and 
passing through, reached the enclosure where all that is 
left of the castle, or nearly all, now stands. Two impress- 
ive ruined towers and a short connecting wall are practic- 
ally all that remain of a once splendid royal residence. 
On the left is ' Brackenbury's dungeon- tower,' no longer 
' dismal,' for the ancient stones are partly clothed with 

86 



ROKEBY 

the foliage of fruit trees, trained English fashion against 
the walls, while a bed of bright-blooming flowers on 
the right, the fresh green leaves of some overhanging 
branches on the left, and the lawn, plentifully besprin- 
kled with the dainty little English daisies, each catching 
its own ray of sunshine and giving a sparkle to the whole 
scene, all spoke eloquently of the change from death to 
life since the time when these walls cast only deep shad- 
ows of darkness and despair. 

On the right of the enclosure is the old Baliol Tower, 
and in the wall connecting it with Brackenbury is an 
oriel window, where the arms of King Richard III may 
still be faintly traced in the stone. 

Baliol Tower is a heavy round structure of great 
antiquity. It has a remarkable vaulted ceiling composed 
entirely of keystones arranged in circles. A narrow 
staircase within the walls leads to the battlements from 
which we obtained a magnificent view of the valley of 
the Tees. 

What prospects from his watch-tower high 
Gleam gradual on the warder's eye! 
Far sweeping to the east he sees 
Down his deep woods the course of Tees, 
And tracks his wanderings by the steam 
Of summer vapours from the stream. 

If Barnard Castle appeared unromantic, approached 
from the yard of the inn, exactly the opposite feeling 
took possession of us when we viewed it from the foot- 
bridge, just above the dam. Here the river widens until 
it looks like a placid lake. The castle rises high above 
the stream, its base concealed by trees of heavy growth, 
but not tall enough to cover the two great towers and 

87 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

the oriel window of King Richard. It is no longer a single 
ruined wall, but the imposing front of a vast structure, 
well placed for defence, once strong in war but now 
beautiful in peace. 

Barnard Baliol, whose father was one of the followers 
of William the Conqueror, founded the castle in the 
beginning of the twelfth century. He was the grand- 
father of John Baliol, who contested with Robert Bruce 
the claim to the Scottish crown. The original castle or 
fortress covered an extensive area of over six acres, 
most of which is now given over to sheep-raising or to 
the cultivation of fruit trees. An extensive domain, 
comprising much of the surrounding country, was 
granted to the descendants of Barnard Baliol in the 
reign of King Rufus. Edward I granted it to Guy Beau- 
champ, Earl of Warwick, in whose family it remained 
for several generations. Through the marriage of the 
daughter of Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, famous 
as the king-maker, to the Duke of Gloucester, afterward 
King Richard III, the estate came into possession of the 
Crown. The castle was a favourite residence of Rich- 
ard, who made many additions to it. In the reign of 
Charles I it was purchased by Sir Henry Vane the elder. 
When Scott makes it the property of Oswald Wycliffe, 
he does not go very far astray, for John Wycliffe, the 
great forerunner of the Reformation in England, was 
born on the banks of the river Tees and received his 
education at Baliol College, Oxford, which was founded 
by the Baliols of Barnard Castle, who were the neigh- 
bours of his family. 

Barnard Castle, however, interesting as it is, was not 
the magnet that drew the poet to this region for his 



.>-• 











ROKEBY 

scenery. In 1808, Scott began his intimacy with John 
B. S. Morritt, a man of sterling character and high lit- 
erary attainments, for whom he came to entertain a 
genuine affection. Morritt had inherited the estate of 
Rokeby, situated about four miles southeast of Barnard 
Castle. The Rokebys, like their neighbours, the Baliols, 
were descended from one of the followers of the Con- 
queror. The old manor house was destroyed by the 
Scotch after the battle of Bannockburn (1314), and the 
Rokeby of that day built the Castle of Mortham, much 
of which still remains standing on the opposite bank of 
the Greta. The present Hall was built in 1 724. It stands 
in the midst of an extensive and beautiful park, which 
Scott, on the occasion of his first visit, thought 'one of 
the most enviable places' he had ever seen. 'It unites,' 
said he, ' the richness and luxuriance of English vegeta- 
tion with the romantic variety of glen, torrent, and 
copse, which dignifies our Northern scenery. The Greta 
and Tees, two most beautiful and rapid rivers, join their 
currents in the demesne. The banks of the Tees resemble, 
from the height of the rocks, the Glen of Roslin, so much 
and justly admired.' The letter containing this enthusi- 
astic praise of his friend's estate was written in 1809. 
Two years later, when the purchase of Abbotsford 
seemed to require another poem for its consummation, 
it was to the one place worthy of comparison with his 
beloved Glen of Roslin that the poet instinctively turned 
for his backgrounds. 

Scott's ambition to be the 'laird' of an estate was 
gratified in the summer of 181 1 when he became the 
owner of an unprepossessing farm of about one hundred 
acres. The land was in a neglected state, but little of it 

89 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

having been under cultivation. The farmhouse was small 
and poor, and immediately in front of it was a miserable 
duck pond. The place, from its disreputable appear- 
ance, had been known as 'Clarty Hole.' But Scott's 
prophetic vision could look beyond all this and see 
something, if not all, of the transformation which was 
to be wrought in the next twelve years. The farm lay 
for half a mile along the banks of the beautiful Tweed, 
the river which Scott loved. He knew the fertility of the 
soil and saw the possibility of making the place a beau- 
tiful grove. At first he thought only of 'a cottage and a 
few fields,' but as the passion for buying, planting, and 
building grew with his apparent prosperity, the farm 
became a beautifully wooded estate of eighteen hundred 
acres, the cottage grew into a castle, and 'Clarty Hole,' 
its name changed into 'Abbotsford' within less than an 
hour after the new owner took possession, became one of 
the most famous private possessions in the world. 

The farm cost £4000, one half of which was borrowed 
from the poet's brother, Major John Scott, and the other 
half advanced by the Ballantynes on the security of 
'Rokeby,' though the poem was not yet written. The 
plans for the purchase out of the way, Scott wrote to his 
friend, Morritt, outlining the new poem, having for its 
scene the domain of Rokebyand its subject the civil wars 
of Charles I. Morritt was delighted and immediately 
responded with a letter full of valuable information. 
The following summer was a busy one. Until the middle 
of July, Scott's duties as Clerk of the Court of Sessions 
kept him at Edinburgh five days in the week. Saturdays 
and Sundays were spent at Abbotsford. He composed 
poetry while planting trees and wrote down the verses 

90 



ROKEBY 

amid the noise and confusion incident to building his 
new cottage. 'As for the house and the poem/ he wrote 
to Morritt, ' there are twelve masons hammering at the 
one and one poor noddle at the other.' Both 'Rokeby' 
and 'The Bridal of Triermain' were written under these 
conditions and at the same time, while Scott found op- 
portunity also to continue his work on the ' Life of Swift,' 
which eventually reached nineteen octavo volumes, and 
to render other literary services to his publishers, the 
Ballantynes. 

It was not long before Scott found an opportunity to 
visit Rokeby again, where he remained about a week. 
On the morning after his arrival, he informed Morritt 
that he needed 'a good robber's cave and an old church 
of the right sort.' Morritt promptly undertook to supply 
both, and to find the former rode with his friend to 
Brignall Woods, where the Greta flows through a deep 
glen, on one side of which are some perpendicular rocks, 
the site of an old quarry. I could not find any robber's 
caves, but it was easy enough for Scott to make one in 
such a rock formation. I could, however, form a pretty 
good idea of the wild flight of Bertram Risingham as he 

Now clomb the rocks projecting high 

To baffle the pursuer's eye: 

Now sought the stream, whose brawling sound 

The echo of his footsteps drowned. 

In all probability, the scene is the same to-day, as it was 
in Scott's time, wild and beautiful. The stream winds 
around through shady nooks, here rippling over the 
rocks and then widening out into a placid pool; occa- 
sionally passing out from beneath the trees into an open 
glade, where the well-worn boulders that punctuated its 

9i 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

course lay gleaming in the sun, and presenting at every 
turn some new and changing view. 

0, Brignall banks are wild and fair, 
And Greta Woods are green. 

In describing the visit to this place Mr. Morritt gives 
an excellent idea of Scott's method : — 

1 observed him noting down even the peculiar little wild 
flowers and herbs that accidentally grew round and on the 
side of a bold crag near his intended cave of Guy Denzil; and 
could not help saying that as he was not to be upon oath in 
his work, daisies, violets, and primroses would be as poetical 
as any of the humble plants he was examining. 1 laughed, in 
short, at his scrupulousness; but 1 understood him when he 
replied, 'that in nature herself no two scenes were ever 
exactly alike, and that whoever copied truly what was before 
his eyes would possess the same variety in his descriptions 
and exhibit apparently an imagination as boundless as the 
range of nature in the scenes he recorded; whereas whoever 
trusted to imagination would soon find his own mind cir- 
cumscribed, and contracted to a few favourite images, and 
the repetition of these would sooner or later produce that 
very monotony and bareness which had always haunted 
descriptive poetry in the hands of any but the patient wor- 
shippers of truth. 

The 'old church of the right sort' was found on the 
other side of Rokeby Park. We reached it from Bar- 
nard Castle by crossing the high Abbey Bridge, beneath 
which the Tees flows in a narrow, rippling, foaming 
lane of water, flanked on either side by trees of rich 
foliage whose bright green branches wave to each other 
continually across the stream in a sort of friendly salute. 
The old grey Abbey of Egliston is pleasantly situated 
on rising ground near where the Tees is joined by the 
rivulet known as Thorsgill. 

92 



ROKEBY 

Yet scald or kemper erred, I ween, 
Who gave that soft and quiet scene, 
With all its varied light and shade, 
And every little sunny glade, 
And the blithe brook that strolls along 
Its pebbled bed with summer song, 
To the grim God of blood and scar, 
The grisly King of Northern War. 

The abbey was founded in the twelfth century and dedi- 
cated to St. Mary and St. John the Baptist. It was once a 
beautiful cruciform building in the Early English style, 
but has been allowed to fall into decay and now only 
parts of the walls of the choir and nave remain. 

The reverend pile lay wild and waste, 
Profound, dishonoured, and defaced. 
Through storied lattices no more, 
In softened light the sunbeams pour, 
Gilding the Gothic sculpture rich 
Of shrine and ornament and niche. 

This was the scene which Scott chose for the culminating 
tragedy of the poem. 

There are many other places in the neighbourhood to 
which the poet refers. There is 'Raby's battered tower/ 
a large castle which boasts the honour of twice enter- 
taining Charles I. There is the Balder, 'a sweet brook- 
let's silver line,' which flows into the Tees a few miles 
above Barnard Castle, and farther to the northwest, 
where the three counties of York, Durham, and West- 
moreland meet, is the place 

Where Tees in tumult leaves his source 
Thundering o'er Cauldron and High-Force. 

These two cataracts are most impressive when rain- 
storms have swelled the stream to its full capacity. Just 

93 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

outside the park of Rokeby is a charming spot where 
the Greta meets the Tees, — 

Where, issuing from her darksome bed, 
She caught the morning's eastern red, 
And through the softening vale below 
Rolled her bright waves in rosy glow 
All blushing to her bridal bed, 
Like some shy maid in convent bred, 
While linnet, lark, and blackbird gay 
Sang forth her nuptial roundelay. 

Half hidden by the trees, the old stone 'dairy bridge' 
crosses the Greta, just where the river emerges from the 
park. It makes a pretty picture as you look through the 
single arch into the cool shades of the peaceful domain. 
Passing over this bridge we came to the old tower of 
Mortham. We did not find it deserted as did Wilfrid 
and Bertram, for it is now used as a farm and the tower 
is almost completely surrounded by low buildings of 
comparatively recent construction. From the garden, 
however, a fairly good view can be obtained. 

And last and least, and loveliest still, 
Romantic Deepdale's slender rill. 
Who in that dim-wood glen hath strayed, 
Yet longed for Roslin's magic glade? 

The glen which Scott would compare with his favourite 
Roslin must be romantic, indeed. The rill of Deepdale 
joins the Tees just above Barnard Castle. The scenery 
increases in beauty as the stream is ascended, to the 
solitary spot near the Cat Castle rocks — 

Where all is cliff and copse and sky, — 

and reaches its climax at the pretty waterfall of Cragg 
Force. 

94 



ROKEBY 

The Cavaliers and Roundheads whom Scott introduces 
into the midst of this beautiful scenery are not, it must 
be confessed, particularly interesting, nor is the villain 
Bertram, in spite of the fact that the poet was a little 
proud of him as a sketch full of dash and vigour. There 
are three people, however, who hold the attention. The 
first is Matilda, who, by the poet's faintly veiled ad- 
mission, was intended to be the picture of his early love, 
Williamina Stuart. In Wilfrid, the youth of poetic tem- 
perament, who loved in vain, and Redmond, his success- 
ful but generous rival, there is a suggestion, which one 
can scarcely escape, of the poet himself and Sir William 
Forbes, who married Williamina. Redmond showed his 
kindly heart and soldierly strength by fighting desper- 
ately over the prostrate figure of his wounded rival, at 
length carrying him in his arms from the burning castle 
to a place of safety, after his entire train had deserted 
their leader. Sir William Forbes was one of the first to 
offer aid when financial misfortune overtook Sir Walter, 
and when one creditor undertook to make serious 
trouble, privately paid the entire claim of nearly £2000, 
taking care that Scott should not know how it was 
managed. As a matter of fact, Sir Walter did not learn 
the truth until some time after the death of his gener- 
ous friend. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN 

One of Scott's chief delights was the little game of 
fooling the critics. No sooner had he arranged for the 
publication of 'Rokeby' than he began to lay a trap for 
Jeffrey, whose reviews of the earlier poems had not been 
altogether agreeable. From this innocent little scheme 
the poet and his confidant, William Erskine, anticipated 
great amusement. The plan was to publish simulta- 
neously with 'Rokeby,' a shorter and lighter romance, 
in a different metre and to ' take in the knowing ones ' by 
introducing certain peculiarities of composition sugges- 
tive of Erskine. The poem thus projected, of which frag- 
ments had already been published, was 'The Bridal of 
Triermain.' The scheme so far succeeded that for a long 
while the public was completely mystified. A writer in 
the 'Quarterly Review,' probably George Ellis, thought 
it 'an imitation of Mr. Scott's style of composition,' 
and added, 'if it be inferior in vigour to some of his pro- 
ductions, it equals or surpasses them in elegance and 
beauty.' Jeffrey escaped the trap by the chance of a 
voyage to America that year, though it may be doubted 
whether he would have fallen into it. 

I have already referred to the fact (chapter I) that 
much of the material for this poem came to Scott in the 
summer of 1797, when, after a visit to the English Lakes, 
he found some weeks of real romance near the village of 

96 



THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN 

Gilsland. To this period the poet's recollection turned 
for his 'light romance.' In the passage where Arthur 
derides the pretensions of his military rival, — 

Who comes in foreign trashery 

Of tinkling chain and spur, 
A walking haberdashery 

Of feathers, lace, and fur, — 

Lockhart finds an allusion to some incident of the ball 
at Gilsland Spa where Scott first met his future wife. 
Whether the walk along the Irthing River below the 
'Spa 'was really in the poet's mind, when he wrote of 
the 'woodland brook' beside which Arthur and Lucy 
wandered, is of course unknown, but I do not doubt 
that it may have been, since so much of the poem was 
suggested by the experiences of that pleasant summer. 
Triermain Castle, or what is left of it, is about three 
miles west of Gilsland. Only a fragment about the size 
of an ordinary chimney is now standing, though Scott 
saw more of it, for a considerable portion of the ruin fell 
in 1832. The Barons of Gilsland received a grant of land 
from Henry II sometime in the twelfth century, and 
Robert de Vaux, son of the original grantee, was prob- 
ably the builder of the castle. On his tombstone in Lan- 
nercost Priory, near by, is this inscription: — 

Sir Robert Vaux that sometime was the Lord of Triermain, 
Is dead, his body clad in lead, ligs law under this stane; 
Evin as we, evin as he, on earth a levan man, 
Evin as he, evin so maun we, for all the craft of men. 

The castle was built of the stones of the old Roman wall 
which passes near the place. From Triermain, Sir 
Roland de Vaux sent his page to Ullswater, passing 

97 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

through Kirkoswald, a village of Cumberland on the 
river Eden. He came to Penrith, to the south of which is 
a circular mound supposed to have been used for the 
exercise of feats of chivalry, which the poet calls 'red 
Penrith's Table Round.' In the same locality near the 
river Eamont is 'Mayburgh's mound,' a collection of 
stones said to have been erected by the Druids. Contin- 
uing to the southward, he came to the shores of Ulls- 
water, where he found the wizard of Lyulph's Tower. 
The venerable sage then related the story of King 
Arthur's adventure in the Valley of St. John. 

We set out in quest of the mysterious phantom castle 
and found the drive through the narrow valley a delight- 
ful one. Nearly everybody who visits the English Lakes 
drives over the hills from Ambleside to Keswick. After 
passing Dunmailraise and skirting the shores of Thirl- 
mere Lake beneath the shadows of Helvellyn, we turned 
off the main road near the mouth of St. John's Beck, one 
of the many pretty brooks that are found everywhere in 
the neighbourhood. A huge pile of rocks, projecting 
curiously from the side of a green-coated hill, is called, 
from the poem, Triermain Castle Rock. Following the 
course of the streamlet, upward, we found a view much 
like that which appeared to King Arthur, after the goblet 
with its liquid fire had disenchanted him. 

The monarch, breathless and amazed, 
Back on the fatal castle gazed — 
Nor tower nor donjon could he spy, 
Darkening against the morning sky; 
But on the spot where once they frowned, 
The lonely streamlet brawled around 
A tufted knoll, where dimly shone 
Fragments of rock and rifted stone. 

98 




THE VALLEY OF ST. JOHN, SHOWING TRIERMAIN 
CASTLE ROCK 



THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN 

As we proceeded up the valley, looking back time and 
again for a last view of the rock, it was easy to fancy that 
what we saw in the distance might well be a castle and 
that under certain atmospheric conditions the illusion 
might be heightened. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE LORD OF THE ISLES 

'The Lord of the Isles,' was another effort to deceive the 
critics. A long poem acknowledged by Walter Scott, 
following soon after 'Waverley' and only a month pre- 
ceding 'Guy Mannering,' was calculated to 'throw off' 
those who were trying to identify the mysterious author 
of the Waverley Novels with the well-known poet. It 
was the result of a vacation journey of about six weeks 
in a lighthouse yacht, made in the summer of 18 14 in the 
company of a party of congenial friends. The chief of 
the expedition was Robert Stevenson, a distinguished 
civil engineer in charge of the lighthouse service on the 
north coast of Scotland, and the grandfather of Robert 
Louis Stevenson. After circling the Shetland and Ork- 
ney Islands they came down into the Minch or channel 
which separates the west coast of Scotland from the Heb- 
rides, and stopped at Dunvegan, on the Isle of Skye, to 
see the ancient castle. Two days later they stopped to 
examine Loch Corriskin, which made a profound impres- 
sion upon the poet's mind. 'We were surrounded,' he 
said in his Diary of the expedition, 'by hills of the bold- 
est and most precipitous character and on the margin 
of a lake which seemed to have sustained the constant 
ravages of torrents from these rude neighbours. The 
shores consist of huge layers of naked granite, here and 
there intermixed with bogs and heaps of gravel and sand, 
marking the course of torrents. Vegetation there was 

100 



THE LORD OF THE ISLES 

little or none, and the mountains rose so perpendicu- 
larly from the water's edge that Borrowdale is a jest to 
them. We proceeded about one mile and a half up this 
deep, dark, and solitary lake, which is about two miles 
long, half a mile broad, and, as we learned, of extreme 
depth. ... It is as exquisite as a savage scene, as Loch 
Katrine is as a scene of stern beauty.' In the poem he 
gives a little more vivid description : — 

For rarely human eye has known 
A scene so stern as that dread lake 

With its dark ledge of barren stone. 
Seems that primeval earthquake's sway 
Hath rent a strange and shatter'd way 

Through the rude bosom of the hill, 
And that each naked precipice, 
Sable ravine, and dark abyss, 

Tells of the outrage still. 
The wildest glen but this can show 
Some touch of Nature's genial glow; 
On high Benmore green mosses grow, 
And heath-bells bud in deep Glencroe, 

And copse on Cruchan-Ben; 
But here — above, around, below, 

On mountain or in glen, 
Nor tree nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower, 
Nor aught of vegetative power 

The weary eye may ken. 
For all is rocks at random thrown, 
Black waves, bare crags, and banks of stone, 

As if were here denied 
The summer's sun, the spring's sweet dew, 
That clothe with many a varied hue 

The bleakest mountain-side. 

No wonder that the exiled monarch, Bruce, should says 

A scene so rude, so wild as this, 
Yet so sublime in barrenness, 

IOI 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Ne'er did my wandering footsteps press 
Where 'er I happed to roam. 

Returning to their vessel after an extraordinary walk, 
the party left Loch Scavig and, rounding its southern 
cape, sailed into the Loch of Sleapin, where they visited 
Macallister's Cave. Here they found a wonderful pool, 
which, 'surrounded by the most fanciful mouldings in a 
substance resembling white marble, and distinguished 
by the depth and purity of its waters, might be the 
bathing grotto of a Naiad.' 

In the morning they sailed toward the south and 

Merrily, merrily goes the bark 
On a breeze from the northward free, 

So shoots through the morning sky the lark, 
Or the swan through the summer sea. 

The shores of Mull on the eastward lay, 

And Ulva dark and Colonsay, 

And all the group of islets gay 
That guard famed Staff a round. 

They were following the same route, or nearly so, which 
the poet afterward laid down for Robert Bruce on his 
return from the Island of Skye to his native coast of 
Carrick. 

They stopped at Stafla to view the famous basaltic 
formation, — 

Where, as to shame the temples decked 
By skill of earthly architect, 
Nature herself, it seemed, would raise 
A minster to her Maker's praise. 

'The stupendous columnar side walls,' says the Diary; 
' the depth and strength of the ocean with which the cav- 
ern is filled — the variety of tints formed by stalactites 

102 



THE LORD OF THE ISLES 

dropping and petrifying between the pillars and resem- 
bling a sort of chasing of yellow or cream-coloured 
marble filling the interstices of the roof — the corre- 
sponding variety below, where the ocean rolls over a 
red, and in some places a violet-coloured rock, the basis 
of the basaltic pillars — the dreadful noise of those au- 
gust billows so well corresponding with the grandeur of 
the scene — are all circumstances unparalleled.' 

They also stopped to view 'Old Iona's holy fane,' 
the ancient burial-place of kings and abbots and other 
men of eminence. It is said that Macbeth was buried 
here and before him sixty other Scottish kings whose 
names are now unknown. 

The vivid descriptions of scenes along the route of 
Bruce to Scotland, with which 'The Lord of the Isles' 
abounds, were gathered on this memorable journey of 
the poet. It was not so, however, with the arrival of 
Bruce at his ancestral castle of Turnberry on the coast of 
Ayr, the information for which was supplied by Scott's 
indefatigable friend, Joseph .Train, whose investigations 
brought to light the ancient superstition that on each 
anniversary of the night of Bruce's return a meteoric 
gleam reappeared in the same quarter of the heavens. 

The light that seemed a twinkling star 
Now blazed portentous, fierce and far, 
Dark red the heaven above it gleamed, 
Dark red the sea beneath it flowed, 
Red-rose the rocks on ocean's brim, 
In blood-red light her islets swim. 

The ruins of Bruce's castle may still be seen close by 
the lighthouse at Turnberry. So little remains that they 
are scarcely visible from the land side, and though thou- 

103 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

sands visit the locality for a run over the superb golf 
links, few realize that here was the birthplace of Robert 
Bruce, and that the skirmishes here begun, when the 
future king returned prematurely from exile, led event- 
ually to the series of successes which terminated in the 
great victory of Bannockburn. 

The poetic description of this terrific combat lacks 
nothing of the vigour and dramatic force that charac- 
terize the story of Flodden Field. The scene where the 
Bruce, suddenly attacked by Sir Henry de Bohun, rises in 
his stirrups and fells the fierce knight with a single blow 
of his battle-axe; the stratagem of the concealed ditches 
into which the English rode with fearful losses ; the kneel- 
ing of the Scottish army in prayer before the battle; the 
charge of the cavalry against the English archers; the 
sudden appearance of the Scottish camp-followers on 
the brow of the hill, waving their spears and banners, so 
that they resembled a fresh army of reinforcements; the 
tragic death of De Argentine and the final triumph of 
the Scottish cause are vividly portrayed with all the 
poet's accustomed power. 

' The Lord of the Isles ' was the last of Scott's import- 
ant poems. Two other attempts followed, 'The Field 
of Waterloo' and 'Harold, the Dauntless/ but neither 
was considered successful. 

'Rokeby,' 'The Bridal of Triermain,' and 'The Lord 
of the Isles,' though well worthy of the genius of the poet, 
had failed to equal in popularity the three greater poems 
by which his fame had been established. The brilliant 
success of Byron was, as Scott feared, ' taking the wind 
out of his sails.' Moreover, his own interest in poetry 
had waned under the influence of his greater achieve- 

104 



THE LORD OF THE ISLES 

ments in prose. As the author of the Waverley Novels 
he had stepped into a new and vastly more important 
field, where he now stood alone. So with the passing of 
Walter Scott the poet came the rising star of the novel- 
ist, and the world was the richer by the transition. 



CHAPTER VIII 

WAVERLEY 

One morning during our stay at Melrose, we drove by 
motor westward along the Tweed, passing Ashestiel, 
situated high up on the opposite bank, but catching only 
a glimpse of it through the trees. Here 'Waverley' was 
begun in 1805 and laid aside because of the criticism of 
a close friend. Here, too, in 18 10, it was resumed and 
again put aside because of the faint praise of James Bal- 
lantyne. This time the manuscript was lost and com- 
pletely forgotten. It came to light in 1813 when Scott 
was searching in an old cabinet for some fishing-tackle. 
He was seized with a desire to finish it, and the work 
was done so fast that the last two of the original three 
volumes were written in three weeks. It was published 
on the 7th of July, 1814. 

Farther up the stream we could see in the distance on 
a high elevation the ruins of Elibank, where Scott's 
ancestor, young Wat of Harden, came so near paying the 
penalty for 'lifting' a few head of his neighbour's cattle. 
Scott always said that the blood of the old cattle-drivers 
of Teviotdale still stirred in his veins, and in this way he 
accounted for his 'propensity for the dubious characters 
of borderers, buccaneers, Highland robbers, and all 
others of a Robin Hood description.' 

Our journey on this particular morning was for the 
purpose of visiting an old baronial mansion which Scott 
no doubt had very much in his mind during the writing 

106 



WAVERLEY 

of 'Waverley.' This was Traquair House, situated in 
the village of that name, about two miles south of Inner- 
leithen. It presents some striking resemblances to the 
description of Tully Veolan. There is a long and wide 
avenue, having an upper and a lower gate. ' This avenue 
was straight and of moderate length, running between 
a double row of very ancient horse-chestnuts, planted 
alternately with sycamores, which rose to such huge 
height, and flourished so luxuriantly, that their boughs 
completely overarched the broad road beneath.' Two 
narrow drives, one on each side of the broad avenue, 
converge immediately in front of the inner gate. Be- 
tween these is a broad space 'clothed with grass of a 
deep and rich verdure.' The outer entrance to the ave- 
nue is barred by a pair of iron gates, hung between two 
massive pillars of stone, on each of which is a curious 
beast, standing on his hind legs, his fore legs resting 
on a sort of scroll-work support. The animals face each 
other like a couple of rival legislators holding a joint 
debate from behind tall reading-desks. Scott says some- 
what dubiously that these 'two large weather-beaten 
mutilated masses of upright stone ... if the tradition of 
the hamlet could be trusted, had once represented, or at 
least been designed to represent, two rampant Bears, 
the supporters of the family of Bradwardine.' If any of 
the village people, who stood around as I arranged my 
camera, their wide-stretched eyes and open mouths 
betraying their curiosity, had told me that these 'bears' 
were 'rampant hippopotami,' I should have rewarded 
them with my usual credulous nod and 'thank you.' 
There can be little doubt that Scott took the idea of 
the Bears of Bradwardine from this gate, although he 

107 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

multiplied the two and scattered them all over the 
place. 

Like Tully Veolan, the house seems to consist of high, 
narrow, and steep-roofed buildings, with numberless 
windows, all very small, while the roofs have little tur- 
rets, 'resembling pepper-boxes.' It was built 'at a pe- 
riod when castles were no longer necessary and when 
the Scottish architects had not yet acquired the art 
of designing a domestic residence.' 

Scott no doubt was a frequent visitor here. In one of 
his letters he refers to the owner in connection with a 
plan to plant some ' aquatic trees, — willows, alders, pop- 
lars, and so forth,' — around a little pond in Abbots- 
ford and to have a ' preserve of wild ducks ' and other 
water-fowl. He says, 'I am to get some eggs from Lord 
Traquair, of a curious species of half-reclaimed wild 
ducks, which abound near his solitary old chateau and 
nowhere else in Scotland that I know of.' This denotes 
a somewhat intimate acquaintance with the Earl of 
Traquair. The house, indeed, was so nea r Ashestiel that 
Scott could hardly fail to visit so interesting a place 
many times. It is doubtful if there is another inhabited 
house in Scotland more ancient than Traquair. The 
present owner takes care to preserve its appearance of 
antiquity. No repairs or alterations are made except 
such as are absolutely necessary, and then the work is 
done in such a way as to conceal its 'newness.' Among 
the early owners of the estate was James, Lord Douglas, 
the friend of Bruce, who attempted to carry his chief's 
heart to the Holy Land. The founder of the family of 
Traquair was James Stuart, and his descendants have 
held the estate for nearly four centuries. 

108 



WAVERLEY 

The great gate with the grotesque bears has been 
closed for more than a century. One tradition is that the 
defeat of the young Prince Charles at the battle of Cul- 
loden in 1746 was the direct cause of its final closing. 
The Prince visited the Earl of that day (Charles, the 
fifth Earl of Traquair) to persuade him to lend his active 
support to the Jacobite cause. The Earl felt compelled 
to decline, but in escorting his visitor from the park, 
made a vow that the gate should never be opened again 
until a Stuart was on the throne. The defeat of the Prince 
was a severe disappointment to the Traquair family and 
the vow of the Earl has been kept to this day, even 
though the earldom is now extinct. 

It is not correct, however, in spite of the striking 
resemblances, to speak of Traquair House as the ' origi- 
nal' of Tully Veolan. Scott himself says in his note in 
the edition of 1829, 'There is no particular mansion 
described under the name of Tully Veolan ; but the pecu- 
liarities of description occur in various old Scottish seats.' 
Among these were the house of Sir George Warrender 
upon Bruntsfield Links; the old house of Ravelston, 
owned by Sir Alexander Keith, the author's friend and 
kinsman, from which he took some hints for the garden; 
and the house of Dean, near Edinburgh. He adds,' The 
author has, however, been informed that the house of 
Grandtully resembles that of the Baron of Bradwardine 
still more than any of the above.' 

Acting upon this hint, when we were making the city 
of Perth our centre, we took a long journey by motor 
with Grandtully Castle as the objective point. I doubt 
if there is a more beautiful drive in all Scotland. We fol- 
lowed the left bank of the river Tay through a fertile 

109 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

valley of surpassing loveliness. In the whole journey of 
nearly one hundred miles it seemed as though there was 
never a blot on the landscape. No neglected farms, no 
rough patches of naked earth, no tumble-down fences, 
no unsightly railroad excavations nor bare embank- 
ments, no swamps filled with fallen timber, no hideous 
bill-boards, none of the hundreds of unsightly objects 
which mar the scenery of so many country drives. 
Everything seemed well kept. The big estates were filled 
with beautiful trees and shrubs, many of them in full 
bloom, and the humbler places did equally well, though 
on a smaller scale. I remember passing a hedge of 
beeches, half a mile long, the trees growing ninety feet 
high and so close together as to make a wall impene- 
trable to the sunlight. I was told that this hedge was 
trimmed once in three years at an expense of fifteen 
hundred dollars each time. This is only one item in the 
care of a large estate. We passed the park and palace of 
Scone, where the coronation stone was kept before its 
removal to Westminster Abbey, and from which it 
received its name. Farther to the north we stopped a 
few minutes at Campsie Linn, which I shall mention 
later in connection with 'The Fair Maid of Perth.' A 
little beyond Cargill our course turned sharply to the 
West, although the main road continues to the north 
until it reaches Blairgowrie, some two or three miles 
beyond which is another 'original' of Tully Veolan, the 
house of Craighall. Unfortunately lack of time did not 
permit a visit to this place, but I must digress long 
enough to explain its significance. It was the seat of the 
Rattray family, who were related to William Clerk, one 
of Scott's most intimate companions of the early days 

no 



WAVERLEY 

spent among the law courts of Edinburgh. During one 
of the Highland excursions the friends stopped at Craig- 
hall. When 'Waverley* came out, twenty-one years 
later, Mr. Clerk was so much struck with the resem- 
blance of Tully Veolan to the old mansion of the Rat- 
trays that he immediately said, 'This is Scott's.' The 
reason for the conviction was probably not so much the 
similarity of the real house to the fictitious one as 
the recollection of a little incident of the early excursion. 
Clerk, seeing the smoke of a little hamlet before them, 
when they were tired and heated from their journey, is 
said to have exclaimed, 'How agreeable if we should 
here fall in with one of those signposts where a red lion 
predominates over a punch-bowl ! ' In spite of the lapse 
of so many years, Clerk recognized his own expression 
(with which he knew Scott had been particularly 
amused) in that part of the description of Tully Veo- 
lan where 'a huge bear, carved in stone, predominated 
over a large stone basin.' 

Following the course of the beautiful river, upstream, 
we came at length, far up in the Perthshire hills, to the 
Castle of Grandtully. It is a large and stately mansion, 
situated in one of those beautiful parks with which the 
region abounds. It has the pepper-box turrets and small 
windows of Tully Veolan. It is now, as in Scott's time, 
the home of a family of Stewarts, one of whom, Sir 
George, supported the cause of 'the Young Chevalier' 
in 1745. The gardener, who, in the absence of the 
family, did the honours of the place, told me that Scott 
had visited the house many years after 'Waverley' ap- 
peared and had said then that it was more nearly like 
what he had described than any other castle, and that 

in 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

'the only mistake he had made was in putting bears on 
the gateway instead of bees.' There is a fine wrought- 
iron gate at Grandtully with the figures of two bees, 
forming a part of the coat of arms of the Stewart family. 
An avenue of limes formerly led to this gate, but it is no 
longer used and only two of the trees remain. Scott was 
always cautious about admitting any connection of his 
writings with definite 'originals/ but was ever ready to 
humour those who fancied they saw certain resem- 
blances. It is curious that he does not mention either 
Traquair House or Craighall in his note, though both 
were identified as 'originals' during his lifetime. No 
doubt, consciously or unconsciously, he wove into his 
novel partial descriptions of both, as well as of Grand- 
tully, while the houses which he particularly mentions 
also furnished some of the details. 

The historical value of 'Waverley' lies in its picture 
of the rising of the Highland clans in favour of Charles 
Edward Stuart, called the 'Young Pretender' by the 
supporters of the reigning king, but affectionately 
known among his Scottish adherents as 'Bonnie Prince 
Charlie.' The ambitious young man, the grandson of 
James II, left France in the summer of 1745 in a small 
vessel, with only seven friends, and landed on one of the 
Hebridean Islands. Before the end of August he had 
raised his standard in the valley of Glenfinnan and found 
himself at the head of an army of fifteen hundred men, 
chiefly of the clans of MacDonald and Cameron. He 
soon made a triumphant march to Edinburgh, where he 
established himself in the Palace of Holyrood, which 
the Stuart family had already made famous. On Tues- 
day, the 17th of September, he caused the proclamation 

112 



WAVERLEY 

of his father, 'the Old Pretender,' as King James VIII, 
to be read by the heralds at the old Market Cross in 
Parliament Square. The people crowded around the 
'Young Chevalier,' eager to kiss his hand or even to 
touch for a single instant the Scottish tartan which he 
wore. So great was the crowd that he was compelled 
to call for his horse , for otherwise he could make no 
progress. It is said that his noble appearance so won 
the hearts of all who beheld him that before he reached 
the palace the polish of his boots was dimmed by the 
kisses of the multitude. 

That night the old palace reawakened to something 
of its former brilliancy, on the occasion of a great ball, 
given by the Prince. The old picture gallery, with its 
array of queer portraits of long-forgotten Scottish kings, 
was a scene of glittering splendour. The long-deserted 
halls, now brilliant with a thousand lights, were crowded 
with an assembly of men of education and fortune, ac- 
companied by their ladies in gowns of such elegance as 
the confusion of the times might permit. Mingling with 
these representations of the Jacobean gentry of Edin- 
burgh were the handsomely arrayed officers of the clans, 
the Highland gentlemen of importance, with their many 
coloured plaids and sashes, their broadswords glittering 
with heavy silver plate and inlaid work, and all the other 
elegant appurtenances for which the picturesque High- 
land costume offered abundant scope. In the chapter on 
the Ball, Scott merely introduced into an historic assem- 
blage two handsome women, Flora Maclvor and Rose 
Bradwardine, and two men, Fergus Maclvor and Ed- 
ward Waverley. 

The palace is to-day much the same as it was in the 

"3 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

time of the Prince, though the adjoining abbey is now 
roofless and very much more of a ruin. A walk through 
the Canongate, from Holyrood to the Market Cross, 
would give one a very fair idea of the street through 
which Fergus Maclvor and Waverley passed to the 
lodgings of the former in the house of the buxom Widow 
Flockhart, where Waverley received his new Highland 
costume from the hands of James of the Needle. At the 
other end of the town, beneath the castle, is St. Cuth- 
bert's Church, then called the West Kirk, where the 
honest Presbyterian clergyman, MacVicar, preached 
every Sunday and prayed for the House of Hanover in 
spite of the fact that many of the Jacobites were present. 
In one of those petitions he referred to the fact that 'a 
young man has recently come among us seeking an 
earthly crown' and prayed that he might speedily be 
granted a heavenly one! 

Much of the material for 'Waverley' was stored up in 
the retentive memory of the novelist when he was a mere 
boy. At six years of age he was taken for a visit to Pres- 
tonpans. If the old veteran of the German wars, Dal- 
getty, whom he met here and who found a ready listener 
in the bright-eyed little boy, was able to tell the story of 
the battle in anything like a graphic manner, it must 
have made a profound impression upon the mind of a lad 
who had already learned to fight the battles of Scotland 
with miniature armies of pebbles and shells. On one side 
was an army of Highlanders, the chief men of each clan 
proudly dressed in their distinctive tartans. They were 
tall, vigorous, hardy men, all proud of their ancestry, 
each capable of deeds of individual daring and courage, 
but all loyal to their chiefs and to their temporary leader, 

114 



WAVERLEY 

Prince Charles Edward Stuart. They were not only 
well dressed but well armed, each man having a broad- 
sword, target, dirk, and fusee, or flintlock gun, and per- 
haps a steel pistol. These were the gentlemen of the 
Highlands. Contrasting strangely with them and form- 
ing the larger part of the army was the rear guard, a 
motley crowd, bearing every appearance of extreme pov- 
erty. They were rough, uncouth, half-naked men of 
savage aspect, armed with whatever weapon could be 
most easily obtained. Some had pole-axes ; some carried 
scythes, securely fastened to the ends of poles; a few 
had old guns or swords; while many had only dirks and 
bludgeons. Butall had the fighting spirit and a keen de- 
sire for plunder. To complete this curious but formidable 
array, there was an old iron cannon, dragged along by a 
string of Highland ponies. This constituted the entire 
artillery of the army and it could only be used for firing 
signals, yet the leaders allowed it to be retained because 
of the belief on the part of the men in the ranks that it 
would in some miraculous way contribute to their ex- 
pected victory. 

On the English side a complete army of infantry, cav- 
alry, and artillery, well equipped and disciplined, con- 
fronted the Highland hordes. As they wheeled into line 
the fixed bayonets of the infantry glistened in the sun 
like 'successive hedges of steel.' These, with the trains 
of artillery and troop after troop of well-equipped dra- 
goons, presented a formidable appearance. But they 
struck no terror into the hearts of the wild 'petticoat- 
men.' With terrific yells the forces of the rebellious 
Scotchmen rushed into battle. Discipline and order 
gave way before the impact of savage zeal, and panic 

"5 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

seized the English army. The result was what the child 
Scott always contrived to accomplish in his mimic battles 
of pebbles, — the complete victory of the Scots and the 
utter rout of their enemy. There is now little to be seen 
on the battle-field. The old thorn tree, which was once 
the central landmark, has almost disappeared. The fer- 
tile fields, once trampled by hostile armies, have given 
way to railroad tracks and unsightly collieries. Colonel 
Gardiner's house, however, where that hero died after re- 
ceiving a mortal wound upon the battle-field, still remains 
standing, and in front, at the end of a fine avenue of 
trees, is a plain but dignified monument to his memory. 
The principal incident of the battle, as told in ' Wav- 
erley ,' is based upon a true story, which Scott heard from 
Alexander Stewart of Invernahyle, on one of his early 
visits to the Highlands. When the Highlanders in 1745 
attacked the army of Sir John Cope at Prestonpans, 
Stewart was one of the leaders in charge. Noticing an 
officer of the English army standing alone, sword in 
hand, too proud to fly with the others, he called on him 
to surrender. The officer answered by a thrust of his 
sword which Stewart received in his target, breaking the 
blade. A huge Highlander rushed up to the defenceless 
man with lifted battle-axe, and in another moment 
would have killed his victim but for the chivalrous inter- 
ference of Stewart, who protected him from injury, took 
care of his personal property, and finally secured his 
release on parole. This officer was a Scotch gentleman, 
serving in the King's army, whose name was Colonel 
Whitefoord. Stewart later paid him a visit at his home 
in Ayrshire. After the battle of Culloden had put an 
end to the hopes of Prince Charles and his loyal Scottish 

116 



WAVERLEY 

friends, when those who had supported the rebellion 
were in grave danger of death and the confiscation of 
their property, Colonel Whitefoord took occasion to 
repay the debt to Mr. Stewart. He called in person on 
the Duke of Cumberland to plead for his friend's life, or 
at least for the protection of his family and property. 
On receiving a positive refusal, he took his commission 
from his pocket, and laying it on the table before the 
Duke, with great emotion begged leave to retire from the 
service of a king who did not know how to be merciful 
to a vanquished enemy. The Duke was deeply affected 
and granted the desired protection. It was none too 
soon, for the troops were even then beginning to plun- 
der the country in the immediate vicinity of Inverna- 
hyle's home. That unfortunate gentleman had lain for 
many days concealed in a cave, his food being brought 
by one of his daughters, a child so young that she was 
not suspected by the soldiers. 

The rescue of Colonel Talbot by Waverley and the 
subsequent friendly assistance of that officer, upon 
which so much of the plot of the novel depends, was 
founded upon this incident, which the old soldier related 
to Walter Scott, a boy of fifteen. It will be remembered 
that Scott's first Highland visit took place in 1786, so 
that Stewart, who was 'out' in the rebellion of 171 5, 
must have been a very old man when he told the story. 
The lad, who no doubt listened eagerly, absorbing every 
detail into his extraordinary memory, did not use the 
tale until nearly a quarter of a century later. 

An example of Scott's remarkable way of remember- 
ing and reproducing the little details of the stories he 
heard is the use he made of Stewart's experience in hid- 

117 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

ing in a cave. The Baron of Bradwardine is supposed to 
have concealed himself in similar manner and to have 
had important assistance from 'Davie Gellatley,' the 
Baron's 'natural' or fool, who was 'no sae silly as folk 
tak him for.' Colonel Stewart, a grandson of Stewart 
of Invernahyle, in his book on the Highlands, points out 
that while some gentlemen 'who had been out' in the 
rebellion were obliged to conceal themselves in the woods 
near his grandfather's house, they were supplied with 
food and other necessaries by one of these poor, half- 
witted creatures, who showed an extraordinary sagacity 
as well as fidelity in protecting the friends of his patron. 
'Davie Gellatley' was a type common enough, espe- 
cially in the country districts of Scotland, a century ago. 
These rustic fools were usually treated with kindness, 
the good people feeling a sense of duty to help those to 
whom Providence had denied their full share of mental 
power. They frequently possessed a certain sagacity or 
cunning, combined with sly humour, which enabled them 
at times to make quick and unexpected answers, causing 
much amusement and wonder. Such a man was Daft 
Jock Gray, who lived on a farm in Ettrick and was well 
known to all the Border people. He was a frequent 
visitor at Ashestiel, where he entertained the family with 
his wild snatches of songs and ballads and his eccentric 
performances. Jock was once travelling with a man of 
his own type, Jamie Renwick. When night came, they 
lodged in a convenient barn. Jock could not sleep and 
got up and walked about singing his wild and incoherent 
songs. This so irritated Jamie that he shouted, • Come to 
your bed, ye skirlin' deevil! I carina get a wink o' sleep 
for ye; I daur say the folk will think us daft! Od, if ye 

118 



WAVERLEY 

dinna come and lie down this instant, I '11 rise and bring 
ye to your senses wi' my rung!' ' Faith,' says Jock, 'if ye 
do that, it will be mair than ony ither body has ever 
been able to do.' * 

The visit of Waverley to the cave of Donald Bean 
Lean was based upon another incident, told to Scott on 
a later excursion to the Highlands in 1793, when he 
stopped for a time at Tullibody, the residence of Mr. 
Abercrombie, the grandfather of his intimate friend and 
companion, George Abercrombie. The old gentleman 
related how he had been compelled to make a visit to the 
wild retreats of Rob Roy, where he was entertained with 
great courtesy by that Highland chief in a cave very 
much like that described in Waverley. He was treated 
to a dinner of ' collops ' or steaks, cut from his own cattle, 
which he recognized hanging by the heels in the cavern. 
He found it necessary to arrange for the payment of 
blackmail to the cateran, which insured the protection 
of his herds against not only Rob Roy himself, but all 
other freebooters. 

We found just such a cave on the east shore of Loch 
Lomond in the heart of the Rob Roy country. It is 
reached by rowing from Inversnaid about a mile up the 
lake, and clambering over some rough rocks to the open- 
ing. It is known as Rob Roy's Cave and gave an excel- 
lent idea of the place where Waverley was entertained 
by Donald Bean Lean and the good-natured Highland 
girl, his daughter, who thought nothing of walking four 
miles to 'borrow' enough eggs for his breakfast. From 
the rocks we enjoyed a superb view of Loch Lomond, 

1 From Illustrations oj the Author of Waverley, by Robert Cham- 
bers. 

119 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

strongly suggesting the Highland loch of 'Waverley/ 
'surrounded by heathy and savage mountains, on the 
crests of which the morning mist was still sleeping.' I 
was fortunate enough to get a good photograph of these 
mists as they rose above the summit of Ben Vorlich on 
the opposite side of the lake. 

On this same excursion to the Highlands, Scott learned 
from another old gentleman something of the history of 
Doune Castle, the ruins of which now stand on the banks 
of the Ardoch, a tributary of the Tieth, some ten miles 
or more north of Stirling. We found the most beautiful 
view from the bridge on the main road, crossing the 
Tieth. The ruins show that the castle was once of great 
extent. It was built by Murdoch, Duke of Albany, 
while governor of Scotland in the exile of James I. When 
James returned in 1423, he took vengeance upon the 
unfaithful guardian of his kingdom and beheaded Mur- 
doch on the Heading Hill of Stirling Castle. The Scot- 
tish monarchs, or several of them, utilized the castle as a 
dower-house for their queen consorts. James II in 145 1 
bestowed it upon his queen, Mary of Gueldres; James 
III gave it to his consort, Margaret of Denmark, in 147 1 ; 
and James IV presented it to Queen Margaret in 1503, 
making it one of his royal residences. In the year 1745 
it came into the possession of Charles Edward, the 
Young Pretender, who used it as a prison. Scott is quite 
consistent with the facts of history, therefore, when he 
causes Waverley to be detained there on his way to Holy- 
rood Palace. 

One other incident of this same Highland excursion 
must be mentioned. It was then that Scott first visited 
the home of his friend, Buchanan, the Laird of Cambus- 

120 



WAVERLEY 

more. Francis Buchanan, the great uncle of the young 
laird, was carried away from this house to Carlisle, where 
he was hanged on a charge of treason, this estate and an- 
other at Strathyre being confiscated. The property was 
later restored to the family, by whom it is still owned. 
The account of the execution of Fergus Maclvor at 
Carlisle Castle was based upon this story, as told to Scott 
on the porch of Cambusmore by his friend Buchanan. 
i Another spot in the Highlands of which Scott was 
very fond is the little waterfall of Lediard. We found the 
place because we were looking for it, but the casual 
tourist would not be likely to see it. It is reached from 
the road leading along the north shore of Loch Ard, west 
of Aberfoyle and south of the Trossachs. I found it nec- 
essary to walk through a lane to a near-by farmhouse 
and then go up a slight incline by a narrow winding path 
along a little brook until I came to a thick wood. There 
the rush of the waters could be plainly heard, and guided 
by the sound, I was able after some search to find a rock 
where I could place my camera for a view of the little 
cascade. It is not remarkable either for the height of 
the fall or for the volume of water, but its charm comes 
from the dense foliage through which the sunlight dances 
and sparkles," from the rough rocks clothed in ferns and 
moss and wild flowers, except where the fantastic play of 
the streamlet keeps them bare, and from the deep pool 
at the bottom filled to the brim with pure, cold water. 
This exquisite scene was chosen by Scott for one of his 
most romantic pictures — the meeting of Waverley and 
Flora Maclvor, when the graceful and beautiful daugh- 
ter of the Highlands, blending her voice with the music 
of the waterfall and the accompaniment of the harp, 

121 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

sang the Celtic verses so full of devotion to her native 
land and the cause of the Prince, calling to the clans: — 

For honour, for freedom, for vengeance awake! 

It is interesting to compare the character of Flora Mac- 
Ivor and her devotion to the fortunes of the exiled 
Stuarts with that of the famous Flora MacDonald. In 
the circumstances of their environment there is no simi- 
larity between the two heroines, one of fiction and the 
other of real life. Flora MacDonald was born in the 
Island of South Uist and brought in infancy to the 
neighbouring island of Skye. Except for a brief visit to 
Argyleshire, she never left those islands until after the 
stirring events which made her famous. She did not 
meet the Prince until she engaged in her efforts to rescue 
him, after the battle of Culloden. 

In personal characteristics there is a very striking 
resemblance. Flora MacDonald, though reared in the 
solitude of a remote island, acquired an excellent educa- 
tion, to which she added the natural love of poetry and 
romance peculiar to her people. 'There was nothing 
unfeminine, either in her form or in her manners, to 
detract from the charm of her great natural vivacity, or 
give a tone of hardness to her strong good sense, calm 
judgment, and power of decision. Her voice was sweet 
and low; the harsher accents of the Scottish tongue were 
not to be detected in her discourse.' 1 She always mani- 
fested a perfect modesty and propriety of behaviour 
coupled with a noble simplicity of character which led 
her to regard with surprise the many tributes of praise 
which her conduct merited. These were the characteris- 

1 From a Memoir, by Mrs. Thomson, 1846. 
122 



WAVERLEY 

tics with which Scott invested his heroine. Flora Mac- 
Donald's family belonged to the clan of MacDonald of 
Clanronald, and one of Scott's most valued friends, 
Colonel Ronaldson MacDonnel of Glengarry, 1 was a 
descendant of the same clan. He was an eccentric char- 
acter who tried to play the chieftain and thought, felt, 
and acted about as he might have done a hundred years 
earlier, but could not do in his own time without provok- 
ing censure and ridicule. He even attempted to have 
himself recognized as the chief of the whole clan of Clan- 
ronald, though his own ancestors had been unable to 
establish the right. Scott regarded him as a treasure, 
'full of information as to the history of his own clan, and 
the manners and customs of the Highlanders in general.' 
In his effort to make Fergus Maclvor, Vich Ian Vohr, 
a typical leader of one of the Highland clans, Scott no 
doubt received considerable help from Glengarry, whose 
castle of Invergarry was on Loch Oich, in Inverness, in 
the very heart of the country of the rebellious chiefs and 
only a few miles distant from Culloden, the scene of 
their final defeat. 

Cosmo ComyneBradwardine, Esq., the pompous, tire- 
some, but laughable bore, with his endless quotations in 
Latin, the honourable soldier, the excellent father and 
the lovable friend, is one of Scott's most interesting 
characters. Though an original creation, there was 
more than one man of his time who might have sat for 
the portrait of the brave, honourable, kind-hearted 
gentleman who spoke Latin as fluently as his native 
Scotch dialect and who loved his 'Livy' so much that 

1 It was to this good friend that Scott was indebted for the gift of his 
famous staghound Maida. 

123 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

after escaping from some soldiers who had arrested 
him, he risked recapture in order to return and secure 
the beloved volume which he had forgotten in his haste. 
The absurd old Baron is represented as insisting upon 
his right and duty, under a charter of Robert Bruce, by 
which his lands were held, to pull off the boots of the 
King. Two difficulties present themselves: — first that 
Prince Charles is not the King, and second that he does 
not wear boots. But it is decided that Charles represents 
the King, and that a service performed to him is done for 
the King; also that brogues are a legitimate substitute 
for boots. So with the good-natured consent of the 
Prince, the ridiculous ceremony takes place with due 
solemnity. This incident, fantastic as it seems, is only 
an example of the way in which certain Scottish tenures 
were held. Mrs. Hughes, of Uffington, says that Scott 
told her of a similar tenure under which the Howistons 
of Braehead held their lands, namely, by presenting a 
basin and ewer with water and a towel for the King to 
wash whenever he came to Holyrood. 

The Laird of Balmawhapple was a purely fictitious 
character, but the method of his death at Prestonpans 
was one of the true stories told to Scott as a child when 
he first visited the battle-field. A brave and honourable 
gentleman, one of the few cavalrymen who followed 
Prince Charles, was pursuing some fugitive dragoons. 
Suddenly discovering that they were followed only by 
one man and his two servants, the soldiers turned and 
cut down the courageous Highlander. 

As in many of Scott's novels, the hero is less attrac- 
tive than some of the subordinate characters. The author 
himself characterized Edward Waverley, somewhat too 

124 



WAVERLEY 

severely, as a 'sneaking piece of imbecility' and added, 
'if he had married Flora, she would have set him up 
upon the chimneypiece, as Count Borowlaski's wife used 
to do with him.' Yet in the third chapter, where the 
subject is Waverley's education, he is really giving a 
bit of autobiography. He refers to Edward's power of 
imagination and love of literature and mentions the 
pleasure which his uncle's large library afforded him. 
'He had read and stored, in a memory of uncommon 
tenacity, much curious though ill-arranged and mis- 
cellaneous information. In English literature he was 
master of Shakespeare and Milton, of our earlier dra- 
matic authors, of many picturesque and interesting 
passages from our old historical chronicles, and was par- 
ticularly well acquainted with Spenser, Drayton, and 
other poets, who have exercised themselves on roman- 
tic fiction.' 

' Waverley ' will always be remembered for its graphic 
picture of the Scottish Highlands in the period just be- 
fore they ceased to have a distinctive individual exis- 
tence, and for the portrait of the Young Pretender, who 
in 'the affair of 1745' achieved such a remarkable hold 
upon the affections of the Scottish people. Scott pic- 
tures the young Prince in the most brilliant period of his 
career, and if he does so in colours more attractive 
than his character deserves, it must be remembered 
that these were the traits which won the love of his fol- 
lowers and by which alone that affection can be ex- 
plained. The excesses of later years had not yet marred 
the fine promise of youth, which, under happier circum- 
stances, might have developed into a higher type of 
manhood. 



CHAPTER IX 

GUY MANNERING 

For the principal scenery of Scott's second novel, we 
found it desirable to change our headquarters to the 
city of Dumfries, a royal burgh of great antiquity, on 
the banks of the river Nith. A mile or more to the north, 
where the Cluden flows into the Nith, are the pictur- 
esque ruins of Lincluden Abbey, to which Robert Burns 
made many a pilgrimage. His favourite walk was along 
the opposite bank of the stream, and here, at the close of 
a summer's day, he would promenade in the twilight, 
enjoying the calm of the evening while he composed his 
lyrics. Several miles farther north is Ellisland, where 
Burns endeavoured to combine the pursuit of farming 
with the collection of the king's revenue in the excise 
service, and incidentally 'met the Muses' to the extent 
of producing 'Tarn o' Shanter' and several other well- 
known poems. 

South of the city the Nith is a tidal river, gradually 
broadening until it becomes an arm of the Solway Firth. 
Two fine old ruins guard its outlet, one on either side. 
On the west is Sweetheart Abbey, a beautiful ruin in an 
excellent state of preservation. Its name comes from 
a pretty story. The Lady Devorgilla, mother of John 
Baliol, who became King of Scotland, founded the abbey 
in 1275 and erected a tomb near the high altar. At her 
husband's death, six years before, she had caused his 
heart to be embalmed and enclosed in a casket adorned 

126 



GUY MANNERING 

with precious stones, which she ever after carried with 
her wherever she went. She gave orders that at her 
death her body should be laid in the tomb which she had 
built and that the precious casket should be laid on her 
breast. Thus the two 'sweethearts' were to rest to- 
gether. In the opening chapter of the novel, Scott refers 
to some monastic ruins which the young English gentle- 
man, Guy Mannering, had spent the day in sketching. 
Doubtless Sweetheart Abbey was in his mind, or possi- 
bly Lincluden. 

On the opposite side of the river, or of the bay, for it 
is difficult to tell where the river ends and the Solway 
begins, is the fine old ruin of Caerlaverock Castle, the 
original of 'Ellangowan Auld Place,' the ancestral home 
of the Bertram family and the place around which re- 
volves the whole plot of l Guy Mannering.' 

The day after our arrival at Dumfries we set out to 
examine this ruin, stopping first at Glencaple, a small 
town on the Nith just below the place where the river 
begins to widen into an arm of the sea. It was low tide, 
and there was a sandy beach of extraordinary width 
which the receding waters had sculptured in waving lines 
of strange contour. The sky above was filled with fleecy 
clouds, and in the distance the summit of Criffell reared 
its height in a majestic background. It was on such a 
coast that Van Beest Brown, or Harry Bertram, landed 
when he returned to Scotland after many years, and 
found himself at the ruins of the house of his ancestors. 
The locality might be taken for the original of Portan- 
ferry, if geographical relations were to be considered. 

Caerlaverock Castle is one of the most picturesque 
ruins in Scotland. Enough of the original walls remain 

127 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

to show the unusual extent of the building. It was 
triangular in form, with two massive round turrets at 
one angle, forming the entrance, and a single turret at 
each of the others. The two entrance turrets and one of 
the others are still intact and well preserved. The turret 
which once stood at the third angle has completely 
disappeared. Between the front towers is a very tall 
arched doorway, now reached by a little wooden bridge 
over the moat. Many of these old ruins have mounds 
showing where the moat used to be, but this is one of 
the few in which the water still remains. For centu- 
ries the lofty turrets have been appropriated by rooks, 
and the moat is now a safe retreat for geese. 

The inner court was three stories high, containing a 
magnificent suite of apartments, all richly sculptured. 
Behind these was a great banqueting-hall, ninety feet 
long, extending between the two rear towers along the 
base of the triangle. There was a great dais and ample 
arrangements for the seating of all guests of high and 
low degree. Judging from an ancient document, the 
castle was richly furnished. According to this inventory, 
there were eighty-six beds, five of them so sumptuous 
that they were valued at £i 10 sterling each. There were 
forty carpets, and a library worth more than £200. 
These figures would not, perhaps, seem large to a twen- 
tieth-century millionaire, but they indicate a scale of 
magnificence almost without parallel in the period when 
this castle flourished. 

Caerlaverock was in existence as early as the sixth 
century, when it was founded by Lewarch Og. From 
him it received the name of Caer Lewarch Og, which in 
Gaelic signifies ' the city or fortress of Lewarch Og.' This 

128 



GUY MANNERING 

was subsequently corrupted to Caer-laverock. In the 
beginning of the fourteenth century it was besieged and 
captured by Edward I and recovered by Robert Bruce, 
changing hands twice again during the wars for inde- 
pendence that ensued. Murdoch, Duke of Albany, who 
was arrested for treason on the return of James I from 
exile, was imprisoned in one of these towers, and the 
castle was the residence of James V when he heard the 
news that broke his heart, the defeat of his forces at 
Solway Moss and the serious disaffection of his nobles. 

On the day of our visit the ruin made a charming 
picture. The sky was partly filled with cumulus clouds 
of a foamy, filmy whiteness through the open spaces of 
which the sun was shining brightly. The clear water of 
the moat reflected the azure tint of the heavens, so that 
the old ruin, its turrets and walls thickly covered with 
the deep green of the ivy, was clearly defined against a 
background of white, bordered above and below with 
shades of the loveliest blue. The dry, yellow grass of the 
field in the foreground, the green rushes bordering the 
moat, some purple flowers at the base of the turrets and 
hundreds of bright golden wallflowers in the broken 
interstices of the walls completed a brilliancy of colour 
which I have seldom seen equalled in any landscape. 

The surroundings of Caerlaverock do not in any way 
correspond with the environments of Ellangowan Auld 
Place. I had already learned, however, not to depend 
too much upon geographical considerations. It requires 
only a superficial knowledge of Scott's method of work 
to understand that while he was a most careful observer 
of all that interested him and wrote many accurate 
descriptions of scenery, he did not hesitate to use his 

129 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

material with a free hand. It was perfectly simple for 
him to transplant an old ruin, which admirably fitted 
one requirement of the story, to a rocky coast, thirty 
or forty miles away, where the other necessary features 
were to be found, or even to combine two different parts 
of the coast for his purpose. 

We found it necessary, therefore, to return to Dum- 
fries, for there is no bridge below the city, and there, 
crossing the river, travel again to the south, this time 
on the west shore, to the town of Kirkcudbright, where 
we stopped long enough to learn to pronounce the name 
('Kir-koo'bry') and to have our lunch. Then, continu- 
ing southward, we stopped our motor at Balmae, the 
country-seat of Lady Selkirk, and walked about a mile to 
the rocky coast of the Solway at Torr's Point, where we 
could enjoy a superb view of the Irish Sea, the English 
coast far away on the left, and the Isle of Man, faintly 
visible in the distance. The coast is high and rocky. It is 
broken into many coves or bays, which were a convenient 
resort for pirates and smugglers. It would be easy to 
imagine Ellangowan Auld Place situated on one of these 
cliffs, except that some other features have to be taken 
from another part of the coast. Scott's description of 
the smuggling trade carried on by Dirk Hatteraick and 
others of his kind was taken from the local traditions. 
The coast, to sailors who knew it well, offered many a 
haven of refuge, but was an extremely dangerous place 
for a stranger ship. There are many stories current 
regarding the exploits of Paul Jones, who was a native of 
Kirkcudbright. After embracing the American cause 
in the War of the Revolution, he cruised in his little 
ship, the Ranger, along the coasts of England and Scot- 

130 



GUY MANNERING 

land, his familiarity with the Solway enabling him to 
make use of its numerous coves to excellent advant- 
age. 

To complete the investigation of the scenery which 
Scott supposed to be within a mile of Ellangowan, I 
made another long journey the next day, taking the 
train from Dumfries to Kirkcudbright and thence 
driving westward by pony-cart, through Gatehouse-of- 
Fleet to Ravenshall Point on the coast of Wigtown Bay. 
Here we put up the horse at a farm and walked west- 
ward along the shore, my driver acting as guide. Chanc- 
ing to meet a gentleman whose family are large land- 
holders in the neighbourhood, I was conducted to the 
Gauger's Loup, 1 a cliff on the rocky coast, beneath which 
were some huge rocks that had dislodged and fallen to 
the shore. At this point a revenue officer was once 
attacked by smugglers and thrown over the cliffs, dash- 
ing out his brains on the ragged rocks below. This well- 
known incident gave Scott the basis for his account of 
the death of Kennedy. Standing on this cliff, my new- 
found friend pointed out a notch in a distant hill, called 
the 'Nick of the Doon/ which he said local tradition 
assigned as the place where Meg Merrilies pronounced 
her malediction upon the Laird of Ellangowan. Not 
many hundred yards away is the original of Dirk Hat- 
teraick's Cave, so called because it was once used by 
smugglers and particularly by a Dutch skipper named 
Yawkins, who was the prototype of Scott's famous char- 
acter. To reach it by direct line was impossible, so we 
walked down the road a quarter of a mile, crossed a 
field, climbed a stone wall, and dropped into a thick 

1 A 'Gauger' is an excise officer and 'Loup' is Scottish for 'leap.' 
131 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

wood. Here the land sloped at an angle of forty-five 
degrees. The ground was thickly covered with garlic, 
emitting a strong odour. We finally reached the rocks 
and began a scramble worthy of a mountain goat, until 
at last we discovered the cave. The entrance is a narrow 
opening between two great rocks, barely large enough 
to admit a man of moderate size. We could look down a 
steep incline of about thirty feet, full of dirt and slime. 
It would be very easy to enter, for it would be like push- 
ing a cork into an empty bottle. The difficulty would 
be to get the cork out. Having no desire to experiment, 
I took the guide's word for it, that the cave is about 
sixty feet long, from six to twelve feet wide, and high 
enough for a man to stand erect. It would, therefore, 
afford plenty of room for the crew of a smuggler's boat 
and a large cargo of whiskey and other contraband stores. 

I asked the driver to impersonate Dirk Hatteraick for 
a few minutes, and he, good-naturedly, complied, crawl- 
ing into the opening, which he completely filled, and look- 
ing out at me with a pipe in his mouth and a broad grin. 
I took his picture, but his honest young face and ami- 
able smile made a very poor pose for the desperate old 
smuggler. It served, however, to show the small size 
of the opening, which might easily have been con- 
cealed by shrubbery or brushwood. 

Scott's information regarding this coast came from 
Joseph Train, a resident of Newton-Stewart, a town in 
Galloway on the river Cree, just above its outlet into 
Wigtown Bay. He was an excise officer who performed 
his duties faithfully. He had early in life developed a 
passion for antiquarian research as well as a taste for 
poetry. With a friend he had begun the collection 

132 



GUY MANNERING 

of material for a History of Galloway, when he was 
surprised and delighted to receive a letter from Walter 
Scott, asking for some copies of a poem which he had 
written. In a subsequent letter Scott asked for any 
local traditions or legends which he did not wish to 
turn to his own account, adding, ' Nothing interests me 
so much as local anecdotes; and, as the applications for 
charity usually conclude, the smallest donation will 
be thankfully received.' 

Train immediately abandoned the idea of attempt- 
ing any work of original authorship and determined to 
devote himself to collecting material for the benefit of 
one who could make far better use of it, — a decision 
in which his friend acquiesced. 'Upon receiving Mr. 
Scott's letter,' he said, 'I became still more zealous in 
the pursuit of ancient lore, and being the first person 
who had attempted to collect old stories in that quarter 
with any view to publication, I became so noted, that 
even beggars, in the hope of reward, came frequently 
from afar to Newton-Stewart, to recite old ballads and 
relate old stories to me.' 

In later years Train often visited Abbotsford; a genu- 
ine affection sprang up between him and the novelist; 
he became one of the few who knew the secret of the 
authorship of 'Waverley'; and no other of the author's 
many friends ever did so much in furnishing him material 
of the kind he wanted. Not only stories and ballads, 
but more tangible objects of antiquarian interest were 
picked up by him and forwarded to his patron. One of 
the most interesting possessions now in the study at 
Abbotsford is the Wallace Chair, made from the wood 
of the house in which Sir William Wallace 

133 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Was done to death by felon hand 
For guarding well his fathers' land. 

The chair was made under the direction of Train and 
presented by him to Sir Walter 'as a small token of 
gratitude.' 

Besides giving Scott many descriptions of scenery 
and much local history, Train supplied a collection of 
anecdotes of the Galloway gipsies, and a story about an 
astrologer which reminded Scott of a similar story he 
had heard in his youth. This tale, as related to the 
novelist by an old servant of his father's, named John 
MacKinlay, appears in full in the Introduction to ' Guy 
Mannering.' Later Mr. Train put in writing 'The Dur- 
ham Garland,' a ballad which was recited to him by a 
Mrs. Young, of Castle Douglas, who had been in the 
habit of repeating the verses to her family once a year in 
order not to forget them. It contains practically the 
same story. This old tale, reappearing in several differ- 
ent ways, became the basis of the novel. 1 

In January, 1813, Scott wrote to his friend, Morritt, 
mentioning a murder case in Galloway where the iden- 
tity of the murderer was discovered by means of a foot- 
print left upon the clay floor of the cottage where the 

1 Another story, some of the details of which may have suggested a 
part of the plot, concerns the experiences of James Annesley, a full ac- 
count of which appeared in The Gentleman's Magazine of July, 1840, 
and is reprinted in full in Lockhart's Life of Scott, vol. v. Lockhart says, 
'That Sir Walter must have read the record of this celebrated trial, as 
well as Smollett's edition of the story in Peregrine Pickle, there can be no 
doubt.' The trial took place in 1743. It suggested, perhaps, something 
of the method by which Glossin undertook to deprive Harry Bertram of 
his rights. Another legal case, which came within Scott's own knowledge 
and may have suggested some of the details of the novel, was related by 
him in a letter to Lady Abercorn. See Familiar Letters of Sir Walter Scott, 
vol. 1, p. 292. 

134 



GUY MANNERING 

death struggle took place. The 'old ram-headed sheriff,' 
nicknamed 'Leatherhead,' suddenly became sagacious. 
He advertised that all persons in the neighbourhood 
would be expected to be present at the burial of the vic- 
tim and to attest their own innocence. This would be 
certain to include the murderer. When the people were 
assembled in the kirk he caused all the doors to be locked, 
and carefully measured the shoes of all present until he 
found the guilty man. The method by which the astute 
Counsellor Pleydell trapped Dirk Hatteraick was clearly 
suggested by this incident. 

It will be seen^from the above that the story was put 
together from fragments of Galloway incidents, mostly 
supplied by Train, and from various legal experiences 
known to the author. 

Scott himself made a visit to Dumfries in 1807, when 
he spent several days visiting Sweetheart Abbey, Caer- 
laverock Castle, and other ancient buildings. Mr. Guth- 
rie Wright, who made the trip with him, wrote: C I need 
hardly say how much I enjoyed the journey. Every one 
who had the pleasure of his acquaintance knows the 
inexhaustible store of anecdote and good humour he 
possessed. He recited poetry and old legends from morn 
until night, and in short it is impossible that anything 
could be more delightful than his society.' 

When Scott made his visit to the English Lakes in 
1797, he became impressed with the beauty of West- 
moreland and Cumberland and particularly with the 
grandeur of the chain of mountains of which Skiddaw 
and Saddleback are the best known. It was in this 
pleasant country that he placed the home of Colonel 
Mannering. It will be remembered that Scott returned 

i"3S 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

from that excursion, through Cumberland to Gilsland. 
This is the route which he selected for Harry Bertram 
on his return to Scotland after many years. Bertram 
(or Brown, as he was then called) paused to view the re- 
mains of an old Roman wall, precisely as Scott himself 
had done. There are many such ruins in the vicinity of 
Gilsland, all remnants of the wall which it is believed 
the Roman general Agricola built from the Tyne to the 
Solway Firth about a.d. 79. One of these suggested to 
Scott the lines which he addressed to a lady friend in the 
year of his first visit: — 

Take these flowers, which, purple waving, 

On the ruined rampart grew, 
Where, the sons of freedom braving, 

Rome's imperial standards flew. 

Warriors from the breach of danger 

Pluck no longer laurels there; 
They but yield the passing stranger 

Wild-flower wreaths for Beauty's hair. 

A few miles from Amboglanna, the most interesting 
of these remains, in the village of Gilsland, is a neat little 
building, occupied by a store, which is pointed out as 
'Mump's Ha'.' It has been so much rebuilt that it now 
suggests but little of the disreputable Border inn which 
once marked the site, nor does the present well-kept vil- 
lage suggest much of the scene that was supposed to 
greet the eyes of Bertram on his approach. The alehouse 
was the resort of Border thieves, and its reputation was 
so bad that a man known to possess a fair supply of 
money dared not remain overnight. Tib Mumps, the 
landlady, who was secretly in league with the freebooters 
who came to her place, was a real character; or perhaps 

136 



GUY MANNERING 

it would be better to say there were two women, either 
of whom might have served for her prototype. The 
tavern was kept by Margaret Carrick, who died in 17 17 
at the age of one hundred years. She was succeeded by 
her granddaughter, Margaret Teasdale, who lived to be 
ninety-eight. Both are buried in the churchyard of 
Over-Denton, a mile away. Scott no doubt heard much 
about them both at the time of his visit, and also the 
story of 'Fighting Charlie of Liddesdale' which sug- 
gested some of the material for the exploits of Dandie 
Dinmont. 

Dandie was one of those 'real characters' who are not 
'real' because there were a dozen of him. In Scott's so- 
called raids into Liddesdale, where he 'had a home in 
every farmhouse,' he met many prototypes of Dandie. 
James Davidson, one of these worthy farmers, pos- 
sessed a large family of terriers, all of whom he named 
Mustard and Pepper, according as they were yellow or 
greyish black. For this reason and because of his great 
passion for fox-hunting, the name of Dandie Dinmont 
became fixed upon him. Far from resenting it, Davidson 
considered that he had achieved a great honour. 

Robert Shortreed, Scott's guide through Liddesdale, 
fixed upon Willie Elliott, of Millburnholm, the first of 
these farmers whom Scott visited, as the real Dandie. 
Lockhart, however, gives the honour to neither, and 
believes that Scott built up the description of this kind 
and manly character and of his gentle wife, Ailie, from 
his observation of the early home of William Laidlaw, 
who later became the novelist's amanuensis and one of 
his most affectionate friends. 

At 'Mump's Ha', Bertram first met the old witch, 

i37 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Meg Merrilies, who played so important a part in his 
destiny. Scott, as a boy attending school at Kelso, had 
made several visits to Kirk Yetholm, a village near the 
English Border, then known as the capital of the gip- 
sies. A certain gipsy soldier, having rendered a service 
to the Laird of Kirk Yetholm in 1695, was allowed to 
settle on his estate, which thereafter was the headquar- 
ters of the tribe. Scott remembered being accosted on 
one of his visits by a 'woman of more than female 
height, dressed in a long red cloak,' who gave him an 
apple. This woman was Madge Gordon, who was the 
Queen of the Yetholm tribes. She was a granddaughter 
of Jean Gordon, whom she greatly resembled in appear- 
ance. An interesting story of the latter, who was the 
real Meg Merrilies, is told in the Introduction to ' Guy 
Mannering.' 

The royal name of the gipsies was Faa, supposed to 
be a corruption of Pharaoh from whom they claimed 
descent. Gabriel Faa, the nephew of Meg Merrilies, 
was a character whom Scott met when on an excursion 
with James Skene. 'He was one of those vermin-de- 
stroyers/ says Skene, 'who gain a subsistence among the 
farmers in Scotland by relieving them of foxes, polecats, 
rats, and such-like depredators. The individual in ques- 
tion was a half-witted, stuttering, and most original- 
looking creature, ingeniously clothed in a sort of tattered 
attire, to no part of which could any of the usual appella- 
tions of man's garb be appropriately given. We came 
suddenly upon this crazy sportsman in one of the wild 
glens of Roxburghshire, shouting and bellowing on the 
track of a fox, which his not less ragged pack of mongrels 
were tracking around the rocky face of a hill. He was 

138 



GUY MANNERING 

like a scarecrow run off, with some half-dozen grey- 
plaided shepherds in pursuit of him, with a reserve of 
shaggy curs yelping at their heels.' 

Scott was able to write the vivid description of the 
salmon-spearing incident, in which Gabriel lets the 
torch drop into the water just as one of the fishermen had 
speared a thirty-pound fish, because the sport was one 
of his own favourite amusements. One night in January, 
he, with James Skene, Hogg the Ettrick Shepherd, and 
one or two others, were out on the Tweed by the side of 
Elibank. They had a fine, blazing light and the salmon 
were plentiful. The boat, however, was a crazy old 
craft, and just as they reached the deepest pool in the 
river she began to sink. His companions begged him to 
push for the shore, but Scott, in great glee, replied, 'Oh, 
she goes fine,' and began some verses of an old song: — 

An gin the boat war bottomless, 
An seven miles to row, — 

when the boat suddenly went to the bottom. Nothing 
worse than a good drenching happened to any of the 
party and Scott enjoyed the experience heartily. 

While attending lectures in the University of Edin- 
burgh, it happened frequently that Scott sat by the side 
of a modest but diligent student, whose extreme poverty 
was quite obvious. This did not deter him from making 
a companion of the boy, and they often walked together 
in the country. Toward the end of the session, he was 
strolling alone one day when he saw his friend talking, 
in a confidential manner, with an old beggar to whom he 
had often given small sums of money. Observing some 
confusion on the part of the young man, he made some 
inquiries, and learned that the beggar was his friend's 

139 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

father. It was characteristic of Scott's generous heart 
that he did not allow this fact to break the acquaintance, 
but with great sympathy he kept the secret. Some time 
later he called by special request of the old man at the 
latter's humble cottage, where he found his fellow stu- 
dent, pale and emaciated from a recent illness. He 
learned that the old man had saved enough for his own 
maintenance, but had voluntarily subjected himself to 
the humiliation of professional mendicancy for no other 
purpose than to pay for his son's college expenses. In 
the course of the conversation the poor father often ex- 
pressed the hope that his bairn 'might wag his pow in a 
pulpit yet.' These are the words attributed to the par- 
ents of Dominie Sampson, of whom the poor lad was 
the earliest suggestion. When the family came to live 
at Abbotsford, a tutor for Walter, the eldest son, was 
required. Scott, always eager to help the unfortunate, 
employed George Thomson, * a gallant son of the church,' 
who by accident had lost a leg. He was ' tall, vigorous, 
athletic, a dauntless horseman, and expert at the single- 
stick.' Scott often said of him, 'In the Dominie, like 
myself, accident has spoiled a capital lifeguardsman.' 
He was a man of many eccentricities and peculiarities of 
disposition, among them a remarkable absent-minded- 
ness, but kind-hearted, faithful, upright, and an excel- 
lent scholar. In these respects he was the prototype of 
Dominie Sampson, though the story of the latter's 
devotion to Lucy Bertram in the days of her adversity is 
based upon an incident in the life of another person. 

Counsellor Pleydell, whom Dominie Sampson regarded 
as 'a very erudite and fa-ce-ti-ous person,' was generally 
identified, by those who knew Edinburgh a century 

140 



GUY MANNERING 

ago, with Mr. Andrew Crosbie, 1 a flourishing member 
of the Scottish Bar of that period. Eminent lawyers 
were then in the habit of meeting their clients in taverns, 
where important business was transacted to the accom- 
paniment of drinking and revelry. This typical old 
Scottish gentleman of real life lived in Lady Stair's Close 
and later in Advocate's Close, both resembling the 
quarters assigned to Counsellor Pleydell. In those days, 
the extremely high buildings, crowded closely together 
in that part of the Old Town nearest to the Parliament 
House, were occupied by the elite of Edinburgh society. 
They were ten and twelve stories high and reached by 
narrow winding stairs. Access from High Street was 
gained by means of narrow and often steep alleyways or 
closes. As a rule the more aristocratic and exclusive 
families lived on the top floors, and as there were no 
elevators, it might be said, the higher a man's social 
position, the more he had to work for his living. 

Like his brethren in the profession, Mr. Crosbie had 
his favourite tavern, where he could always be found by 
any of the 'cadies' 2 in the street. This was Dawny 
Douglas's tavern in Anchor Close, the meeting-place of 
the 'Crochallan Fencibles,' a convivial club of which 
William Smellie, a well-known printer and editor of the 

1 As Crosbie died when Scott was only fourteen, the novelist could 
scarcely have known him personally; on the other hand, he could hardly 
have failed to hear the stories of such an individual, whose exploits were 
well known to the frequenters of Parliament Square. 

2 These cadies (or caddies, a name that has become familiar through 
the introduction of the Scotch game of golf) were a class of men and boys 
who in the eighteenth century frequented the law courts of Edinburgh, 
eager to be employed upon any errand. They knew the particular 
haunts of all the lawyers of any consequence, and never dreamed of look- 
ing for anybody at his own home, or in any place other than the special 
tavern which he was known to frequent. 

141 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

day, was the inspiring genius, and where Robert Burns, 
when in Edinburgh, joined heartily in the bacchana- 
lian revels which were famous for their duration and 
intensity. Smellie's printing-office in this close was 
frequented by some of the most eminent literary men 
of the day. 

The game of 'High Jinks' was played on Saturday 
nights in Douglas's tavern very much as described in 
the novel. Clerihugh's, which Scott mentions as Mr. 
Pleydell's resort, was a somewhat more respectable 
place in Writers' Court. 

It is a curious fact that Mr. Crosbie had a clerk very- 
much like Pleydell's 'Driver,' who could write from dic- 
tation just as well, asleep or awake, drunk or sober, and 
whose principal recommendation was that he could 
always be found at the same tavern, while less 'steady' 
fellows often had half a dozen. The incident which Mr. 
Pleydell relates to Colonel Mannering, of how certain 
legal papers were prepared while both lawyer and clerk 
were intoxicated, was, we are assured by the author, no 
uncommon occurrence. It will be remembered that Mr. 
Pleydell had been dining on Saturday night and at a 
late hour, when he 'had a fair tappit hen l under his 
belt,' was asked to draw up some papers. Driver was 
sent for and brought in both speechless and motionless. 
He was unable to see the inkstand, and it was necessary 
for some one to dip the pen in the ink. Nevertheless he 
was able to write as handsomely as ever and the net 
result of this attempt to 'worship Bacchus and Themis' 

1 The ' Tappit Hen' was a pewter mug, with the figure of a hen on the 
lid. It held three quarts of claret, which was drawn from the tap, — 
hence the name. 

142 



GUY MANNERING 

at the same time, was a document in which 'not three 
words required to be altered.' 

Crosbie's clerk, though a dissipated wretch, was well 
versed in the law. He had been known to destroy a 
paper in his employer's writing and draw up a better one 
himself. An old Scotchman used to say that 'he would 

not give 's drunken glour at a paper for the serious 

opinions of the haill bench.' 

Unfortunately, both Crosbie and his clerk gave up the 
' steady ' habit of drinking at a single tavern and in later 
life began to frequent many places. The result was the 
complete ruin of both. Scott's highly amusing account 
of the convivial habits of Counsellor Pleydell and his 
dissipated clerk is a fairly accurate, if not entirely com- 
plimentary picture of the daily life of a certain class of 
prominent lawyers in Edinburgh, in the middle of the 
eighteenth century. The more pleasing side of Pleydell's 
character was taken from Adam Rolland, an old friend 
of Scott's, who died at the age of eighty-five, four years 
after 'Guy Mannering' was published. He was an ac- 
complished gentleman, an excellent scholar, an eminent 
lawyer, and a man of the highest probity and Christian 
character. He would have been quite incapable of such 
a performance as 'high jinks.' 

As in many of his other novels, Scott makes the sub- 
ordinate characters of ' Guy Mannering' the most inter- 
esting. Dominie Sampson, Dandie Dinmont, Meg 
Merrilies, Dirk Hatteraick, and Paulus Pleydell are 
original creations of strong, dramatic interest. Each had 
a prototype in real life, but it was the genius of the 
novelist that brought them into existence in the sense 
that Mr. Pickwick and Becky Sharp are real people, and 

143 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

conferred upon them a kind of immortality that will be 
as sure to delight the generations of the future as they 
have been successful in appealing to the readers of the 
past century. 

As to Colonel Mannering himself, I need only repeat 
the exclamation of James Hogg when he first read the 
novel: — 'Colonel Mannering is just Walter Scott 
painted by himself!' Though doubtless not intended 
for a portrait, the fine, dignified, soldierly, and scholarly 
colonel is the picture of a perfect gentleman, intended 
to embody the high ideals which were a part of Scott's 
own character and for which we like to remember him. 



CHAPTER X 

THE ANTIQUARY 

Washington Irving's story of a week spent with Scott 
at Abbotsford always leaves in my mind an indescrib- 
able thrill of pleasure. Partly because Irving really did 
have a delightful experience such as falls to the lot of 
few men and partly because he knew, better than others, 
how to transfer his own pleasurable emotions to the 
minds of other people, it is certain that, to my mind at 
least, there is no single sketch in all the Scott literature, 
not even in Lockhart's brilliant work, that throws a 
stronger light upon the Great Wizard's character or 
illuminates a more attractive picture. 

It was a happy week for the American visitor, and I 
imagine it contained no happier moment than when the 
younger author nestled by the side of his warm-hearted 
friend, under the lee of a sheltering bank during a 
shower, the plaid of the Scotchman closely wrapped 
around them both, while the enchanting flow of anec- 
dote, reminiscence, and whimsical suggestion went 
merrily on in spite of the Scottish mist. It was in the 
course of their walk on this particular morning that 
Scott stopped at the cottage of a labourer on his estate 
to examine some tongs that had been dug up in the 
Roman camp near by. 'As he stood regarding the relic,' 
says Irving, 'turning it round and round, and making 
comments on it, half grave, half comic, with the cottage 
group around him, all joining occasionally in the collo- 

145 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

quy, the inimitable character of Monkbarns was again 
brought to mind and I seemed to see before me that 
prince of antiquarians and humourists, holding forth to 
his unlearned and unbelieving neighbours.' There was 
something peculiarly delightful about Scott's antiquari- 
anism. He seemed to feel that those who were without 
his own knowledge of values were inclined to smile at 
his enthusiasm, and whenever he talked on his favourite 
subject there was an undercurrent of sly humour which 
gave an exquisite flavour to his conversation. The dis- 
covery of anything ancient, whether a ruined castle, a 
broadsword or sporran from the Highlands, or a scrap 
of some old ballad, gave him the greatest pleasure, and 
nothing afforded his friends more enjoyment than to be 
able to present him with such relics and curiosities as 
they knew he would appreciate. A casual walk through 
the Entrance Hall and Armory of Abbotsford, where 
hundreds of helmets, suits of armour, swords, guns, pis- 
tols, and curiosities of infinite variety are displayed, is 
enough to suggest to any one that Sir Walter himself 
was the real Jonathan Oldbuck of 'The Antiquary.' A 
glance at the Library, with its collection of twenty thou- 
sand rare old volumes, is enough to prove that Scott, 
like Monkbarns, was not only an antiquary but a biblio- 
phile as well. Who but a genuine enthusiast could have 
written that chapter in which the worthy Mr. Oldbuck 
exhibits the treasures of his sanctum sanctorum to Mr. 
Lovel? 'These little Elzevirs are the memoranda and 
trophies of many a walk by night and morning through 
the Cowgate, the Canongate, the Bow, St. Mary's 
Wynd, — wherever, in fine, there were to be found 
brokers and trokers, those miscellaneous dealers in things 

146 



THE ANTIQUARY 

rare and curious. How often have I stood haggling on 
a half penny, lest, by a too ready acquiescence in the 
dealer's first price, he should be led to suspect the value I 
set upon the article! — how have I trembled, lest some 
passing stranger should chop in between me and the 
prize, and regarded each poor student of divinity that 
stopped to turn over the books at the stall as a rival 
amateur, or prowling bookseller in disguise ! — And, 
then, Mr. Lovel, the sly satisfaction with which one 
pays the consideration, and pockets the article, affecting 
a cold indifference, while the hand is trembling with 
pleasure ! ' 

It was during the visit to Prestonpans, previously men- 
tioned, that Scott, a child of six, first made the acquaint- 
ance of George Constable, an old friend of his father's, 
who resided near Dundee. He must have learned from 
this gentleman something which started in him the 
antiquarian instincts, for, as he himself has remarked, 
'children derive impulses of a powerful and important 
kind in hearing things which they cannot entirely com- 
prehend.' Certainly he put enough of Mr. Constable into 
the description of Jonathan Oldbuck to cause various 
friends to recognize him; and as Constable's intimacy 
with Scott's father was well known, this gave colour to 
the suspicion that Scott himself was the unknown author 
of 'The Antiquary.' But even a more faithful delinea- 
tion of George Constable than the book contains would 
have failed to bring out the real charm of the delightful 
Oldbuck. It is the Scott part of his nature that we really 
enjoy. 

Next to the Antiquary himself, old Edie Ochiltree is 
the character who is chiefly responsible for the pleasant 

i47 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

flavour of this book. He is a mendicant whom it is a real 
pleasure to meet. His amiable nature, his sly good 
humour, and his genuine friendliness win your affection 
in the beginning and hold it to the very end. He is a 
picture drawn from real life, though it is probable that 
old Andrew Gemmels, his prototype, did not possess the 
many endearing qualities with which the novelist in- 
vested Edie. 

The 'blue gowns ' of the south of Scotland were a class 
of licensed beggars, known as the 'King's Bedesmen.' 
The number of them was supposed to be the same as the 
years of the King's life, so it was necessary to initiate a 
new member of the aristocracy of paupers every year. 
At every royal birthday each bedesman received a new 
light-blue cloak or gown and a pewter badge, together 
with a purse containing as many pennies as the years of 
the King's life. Their sole duty was to pray for long life 
for the King, which, considering that the older the sov- 
ereign the larger the purse, they might very cheerfully 
do. In return, all laws against beggars were suspended 
in their favour, and the 'blue gowns' went about from 
house to house, fairly assured of food and lodging and 
seemingly free from care. 

The service of the 'blue gown' to the community is 
best set forth in the words of Edie Ochiltree, who appar- 
ently considered himself a public benefactor: — 

And then what wad a' the country about do for want o' 
auld Edie Ochiltree, that brings news and country cracks 
frae ae farm-steading to anither and gingerbread to the lasses, 
and helps the lads to mend their fiddles and the gudewives 
to clout their pans, and plaits rush-swords and grenadier 
caps for the weans and busks the lairds' flees, and has skill o' 

148 



THE ANTIQUARY 

cow-ills and horse-ills, and kens mair auld sangs and tales 
than a' the barony besides, and gars ilka body laugh where- 
ever he comes? Troth, my leddy, 1 canna lay down my voca- 
tion; it would be a public loss. 

Andrew Gemmels was well known throughout the 
Border country of Scotland for more than half a century 
as a professional beggar or 'gaberlunzie.' He had been a 
soldier in his youth and maintained his erect military 
carriage even in old age. He was very tall and carried a 
walking-stick almost as high as himself. His features 
were strongly intellectual, but marked by a certain 
fierceness and austerity of expression, the result of his 
long and peculiar contact with all sorts of hard experi- 
ences. Scott, who had often met him, comments upon 
his remarkable gracefulness. With his striking attitudes 
he would have made a fine model for an artist. One of 
his chief assets was an unusual power of sarcasm, coupled 
with a keen wit, the fear of which often gained for him 
favours which might otherwise have been denied. He 
was full of reminiscences of the wars and of adventures 
in foreign lands, which he told in a droll fashion, coupled 
with a shrewd wit, that always made him an entertain- 
ing visitor. He wandered about the country at pleasure, 
demanding entertainment as a right, which was accorded 
usually without question. His preference as to sleeping 
quarters was the stable or some outbuilding where cattle 
were kept. He never burdened anybody, usually appear- 
ing at the same place only once or twice a year. He 
always had money — frequently more than those of 
whom he begged. When a certain parsimonious gentle- 
man expressed regret that he had no silver in his pocket 
or he would have given him sixpence, Andrew promptly 

149 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

replied, ' I can give you change for a note, laird.' In later 
years he travelled about on his own horse, a very good 
one, and carried a gold watch. He died at the age of a 
hundred and six years, leaving enough wealth to enrich 
a nephew, who became a considerable landholder. His 
tombstone in Roxburgh Churchyard, near Kelso, con- 
tains a quaint carved figure of the mendicant, above 
which are the words, 'Behold the end o' it.' This refers 
to an incident related by a writer in the 'Edinburgh 
Magazine' in 1817, the year after the publication of the 
novel: — 

Many curious anecdotes of Andrew's sarcastic wit and 
eccentric manners are current in the Borders. I shall for the 
present content myself with one specimen, illustrative of 
Andrew's resemblance to his celebrated representative. The 
following is given as commonly related with much good 
humour by the late Mr. Dodds, of the War-Office, the person 
to whom it chiefly refers: Andrew happened to be present 
at a fair or market somewhere in Teviotdale (St. Boswell's if 
I mistake not) where Dodds, at that time a non-commissioned 
officer in His Majesty's service, happened also to be with a 
military party recruiting. It was some time during the Amer- 
ican War, when they were eagerly beating up for fresh men 
— to teach passive obedience to the obdurate and ill-man- 
nered Columbians; and it was then the practice for recruiting 
sergeants, after parading for a due space with all the warlike 
pageantry of drums, trumpets, 'glancing blades, and gay 
cockades,' to declaim in heroic strains the delights of the sol- 
dier's life, of glory, patriotism, plunder, the prospect of pro- 
motion for the bold and the young, and His Majesty's 
munificent pension for the old and the wounded, etc., etc. 
Dodds, who was a man of much natural talent, and whose 
abilities afterwards raised him to an honourable rank and 
independent fortune, had made one of his most brilliant 
speeches on this occasion. A crowd of ardent and anxious 

IS© 



THE ANTIQUARY 

rustics were standing round, gaping with admiration at the 
imposing mien, and kindling at the heroic eloquence, of the 
manly soldier, whom many of them had known a few years 
before as a rude tailor boy; and the sergeant himself, already 
leading in idea a score of new recruits, had just concluded, 
in a strain of more than usual elevation, his oration in praise 
of the military profession, when Gemmels, who, in tattered 
guise, was standing close behind him, reared aloft his meal- 
pocks on the end of his kentor pike-staff, and exclaimed, with 
a tone and aspect of the most profound derision, ' Behold the 
end o' it! ' The contrast was irresistible — the beau-ideal of 
Sergeant Dodds, and the ragged reality of Andrew Gem- 
mels, were sufficiently striking; and the former, with his red- 
coat followers, beat a retreat in some confusion, amidst 
the loud and universal laughter of the surrounding multi- 
tude. 

The character of the old 'gaberlunzie,' as revealed in 
this anecdote, was so faithfully transferred by the novel- 
ist to Edie Ochiltree, that in spite of some embellish- 
ments he was immediately recognized. 

To study the scenery of 'The Antiquary,' we went to 
Arbroath, a town on the east coast of Scotland, which 
traces its beginnings back to the twelfth century. This 
is the original of Fairport, and we found all of the 
scenery of the novel in the immediate neighbourhood. 
In the midst of a shower which threatened destruction 
to all photographic attempts, we made our first visit to 
the ruins of the Abbey of St. Thomas, the original of 
St. Ruth's. It was a disappointment to find this ruin in 
the heart of the city, instead of a 'wild, sequestered 
spot,' where a 'pure and profound lake' discharged itself 
into a ' huddling and tumultuous brook. ' But the Wizard 
always reserved the right to transplant his ruined castles 
and abbeys to suit his taste, and he was quite justified 

151 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

in transferring St. Ruth's to more romantic surroundings, 
particularly as there is a deep ravine known as Seaton 
Den, on the coast north of Arbroath, which answers 
every requirement. 

Thanks to the British Government, which took 
charge of the abbey in 1815, there is still left enough of 
the walls to make a picturesque ruin of considerable 
extent. For two centuries previously the people of the 
village freely used the stones for building purposes. It is 
necessary to go back six centuries to find the church in 
its full perfection, when it was one of the richest and 
most sumptuously furnished establishments in Scotland. 
In the year 1320, a parliament was held in the abbey by 
King Robert the Bruce, and a letter, regarded as one of 
the most remarkable documents in early British history, 
was sent to the Pope, appealing for a recognition of 
Scottish independence. 

The original abbey was founded in the year n 78 by 
William the Lion, a Scottish monarch whose name is as- 
sociated with nearly all of the principal buildings which 
form the scenes of 'The Antiquary.' It was dedicated 
to St. Thomas of Canterbury, the famous Thomas a 
Becket, whom William had met at the court of the Eng- 
lish King, Henry II, when a young man. From ancient 
documents it would seem that the monastery was main- 
tained in a state of great opulence and that it was open 
to all comers, rich and poor alike. 

The predominating feature of the ruin, as it stands 
to-day, is the south wall, containing what the people of 
Arbroath call the 'Roond 0,' a window twelve feet in 
diameter, immediately over the altar of St. Catharine. 
Beneath this opening is a gallery with seven arches of 

152 



THE ANTIQUARY 

carved stone, suggesting the scene in 'The Antiquary' 
where the impostor, Dousterswivel, and Sir Arthur 
Wardour are digging for treasure in the ruins, while 
Lovel and Edie Ochiltree watch the performance from 
just such a place of concealment. We could almost smell 
the fumes of the ' suffumigation ' and hear the violent 
sneezes of old Edie and the terrified ejaculation of 
Dousterswivel, ' Alle guten Geistern, loben den Herrn! ' 

Monkbarns, the home of Jonathan Oldbuck, is closely 
associated with the history of the abbey. When the fame 
of that establishment had spread throughout Scotland 
and England, there were many pilgrimages to the shrine 
of St. Thomas a Becket. Many of these pilgrims arrived 
sick and exhausted. To provide for them, a rude hos- 
pital was ordered built, about two miles away from the 
abbey, on lands now occupied by a handsome building 
known as Hospitalfield. In Scott's day this house was 
very much less pretentious and might well have corre- 
sponded with his description of an 'irregular and old- 
fashioned building, some part of which had belonged to a 
grange, or solitary farmhouse, inhabited by the bailiff, 
or steward of the monastery, when the place was in pos- 
session of the monks. It was here that the community 
stored up the grain which they received as ground-rent 
from their vassals; . . . and hence, as the present pro- 
prietor loved to tell, came the name of Monkbarns.' 
Readers of 'The Antiquary' will remember the alterca- 
tion between Oldbuck and his sister when the latter was 
requested to make a bed ready for Mr. Lovel. ' "A bed? 
The Lord preserve us!" ejaculated Grizel. "Why, 
what 's the matter now? Are there not beds and rooms 
enough in the house? Was it not an ancient hospitium 

iS3 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

in which, I am warranted to say, beds were nightly 
made down for a score of pilgrims?"' 

The property has a beautiful situation and is other- 
wise so desirable that it passed from the monks into 
private hands centuries ago. It finally came into the 
possession of Patrick Allan-Fraser, who made such ex- 
tensive additions that whatever is left of the original 
building owned by the monks is completely covered 
up. This public-spirited gentleman, who died in 1890, 
left the estate in trust for the benefit and encouragement 
of young men who desired to study painting, sculpture, 
wood-carving, architecture, or engraving, and the house 
is now occupied by teachers and students. It has an art 
gallery containing some valuable paintings, sculptures, 
and wood-carvings, and a library of old documents and 
rare folios that would delight the soul of Jonathan 
Oldbuck himself. 

It was the most natural thing in the world for us, after 
visiting Monkbarns, to seek the residence of his Tory 
friend and fellow antiquarian, Sir Arthur Wardour, al- 
though we did not find it within easy walking distance as 
might have been inferred. Ethie Castle has been gener- 
ally fixed upon by local writers as the original of Knock- 
winnock. The present building is one of the country- 
seats of the Earl of Northesk. It is a red-stone structure 
of considerable antiquity and irregular design, which 
nevertheless made a pleasing picture when seen at a dis- 
tance of several hundred yards from the front. A tiny 
brook crossed by a wooden bridge and flanked by huge 
rhododendrons in full bloom made a charming fore- 
ground. Beyond was a sloping field of tall grass, which 
had been mown only enough to make a broad path in 

iS4 



THE ANTIQUARY 

the midst of which were countless thousands of dainty 
pink-and- white daisies. On either side were ample groves 
of well-f oliaged trees, making a vista in which the old red 
mansion appeared to excellent advantage. 

Ethie Castle was part of the endowment which Wil- 
liam the Lion granted to the Abbey of Aberbrothock. It 
therefore dates back to the year 1178. In the sixteenth 
century it was the residence of Cardinal Beaton, who 
seems to have bequeathed to it the ' Cardinal's Chapel,' 
by which name a room in the house is still known and 
'the tramp of the Cardinal's leg,' a weird, ghostly sound 
of footsteps on the old stone stairs, with which the castle 
is haunted. After the death of the Cardinal, a natural 
daughter laid claim to the estate. Thus, as with Knock- 
winnock, the 'bar-sinister' appears on the escutcheon of 
the family. 

Directly east of Ethie Castle and not far distant are 
the cliffs of Red Head. The coast for some miles north 
of Arbroath is a series of huge cliffs, with many strange 
caverns and curious rock formations. Almost any of 
them, but Red Head perhaps better than the others, 
would serve as the scene of the thrilling incident in 'The 
Antiquary,' in which Sir Arthur Wardour and his daugh- 
ter are overtaken by the tide and rescued with great 
difficulty by Saunders Mucklebackit, ably assisted by 
Lovel and Edie Ochiltree. Two huge rocks rise almost 
perpendicularly from the shore. It is easily conceivable 
that any attempt to walk around them, in the face of a 
swiftly rising tide, would be fraught with dangerous, if 
not fatal, consequences. 

The village of Auchmithie, the home of the Muckle- 
backits, is situated on one of the cliffs south of Red 

155 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Head. This is the most realistic of all the scenes of 'The 
Antiquary.' The village, with the exception of a new 
hotel, is practically as it was when Scott was a visitor in 
1814. There is but one street, and that has no name; but 
the houses are numbered, city-fashion. The post-office 
address of an inhabitant would, therefore, give the num- 
ber of the house and the name of the town, omitting any 
mention of a street; thus the old fisherman, who posed 
for me and to whom I mailed a photograph, lives at 
Number 58, Auchmithie, Scotland. This old fellow is a 
type of the neighbours of Saunders Mucklebackit. The 
habits of life of the people, their dress, their occupations, 
their houses, their furniture, even their names, are the 
same as they were a hundred years ago. I asked the old 
man how old his house was. He replied, 'Ou, I dinna 
ken hoo auld. I'se seventy-two mysel' and I was born 
here and my grandf eyther, too.' Several others of whom 
I asked the same question gave substantially the same 
answer. 

The post-office was in one of these ancient cottages, 
with a new front, but otherwise unchanged. Its occupant 
was quite communicative. He said it was the original 
Cargill Cottage, and that George Cargill, who occu- 
pied it a century ago, was the original Mucklebackit. 
'When Walter Scott came to Auchmithie,' said he, 'he 
came by boat. There was n't any way to land except 
through the breakers and he could n't do that without 
getting his feet wet. So Cargill had to carry him ashore 
on his back. When he set him down on dry land, Scott 
clapped him on the back and said, '"What a muckle 
backed fellow you are, Geordie, to be sure!" Muckle, 
you see, sir, means " much" or " big," and George had a 

156 



THE ANTIQUARY 

great big broad back, so that's how Walter Scott got the 
name, Mucklebackit.' He let me take a photograph 
of the interior of the cottage, where a single room served 
for bedroom, breakfast-room, kitchen, and numerous 
other purposes. I suppose the cottage of Saunders 
Mucklebackit must have presented much the same 
appearance to Monkbarns when he walked in to attend 
the funeral of young Steenie Mucklebackit and won the 
hearts of all by performing the office of chief mourner, 
according the family the rare honour of having the laird 
'carry the head of the deceased to the grave.' 

I found a very pleasant family group in front of the 
next cottage, and after a few moment's conversation 
asked permission to take their picture. Not hearing a 
dissenting voice, I understood my request would be 
granted and began to set up my camera in the street. 
Before I had half made ready, the entire group had dis- 
appeared. The police department of the town then 
marched up to me, — one man strong, — and for a 
moment I felt afraid I had been violating some law. But 
he was only curious, and told me that the people had a 
strange aversion to being photographed. I left my cam- 
era all focused and ready in the street and sauntered 
with the constable to the side of the road. In a few 
minutes a picturesque old fishwife, carrying two large 
empty pails in each hand, came out of her house, all 
unconscious of the awful presence of a loaded camera 
and I quickly stepped out and pressed the bulb. ' That 's 
Coffee Betz you got then,' laughed the constable. 'She 
would n't let you take her picture, but she's one of the 
Cargills.' In this way I came as near as possible to get- 
ting a photograph of the original Luckie Mucklebackit 

iS7 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

with whom Monkbarns haggled over the price of a 
bannock-fluke and a cock-padle. For the fishwives of 
to-day are the same as those of a century ago, — ' they 
keep the man, and keep the house, and keep the siller, 
too.' The men consider their own work ended when the 
boat is pulled up on the beach. It is the wife who must 
market the fish, which she does by carrying them on her 
back to the nearest town, where she must 'scauld and 
ban wi' ilka wife that will scauld and ban wi' her' until 
the fish are sold. 'Them that sell the goods guide the 
purse — them that guide the purse rule the house,' and 
therefore by common consent in these communities, the 
wife is the head of the family. 

Back from Auchmithie is the mansion house of 
Kinblethmont, surrounded by some fine old woods. It 
will be remembered that Edie Ochiltree was passing 
this place on his return from the Earl of Glenallan's 
castle when he was arrested on a charge of assaulting 
Dousterswivel. Colonel Lindsay, of Kinblethmont, and 
the Laird of Hospitalfield were the leaders who took 
the direction of affairs when a French privateer named 
the 'Dreadnought' threatened the town of Arbroath 
in very much the same way as Fairport was menaced 
in 'The Antiquary.' The same scenes of excitement 
so vividly described in the novel were there enacted. 

Scott, however, had passed through a similar expe- 
rience himself, which enabled him to write the dramatic 
event with greater ease. For several years, in the early 
part of the nineteenth century, the people of England 
and Scotland were kept in a state of nervous dread by 
the expectation of an invasion by the French. Beacons 
were erected all along the coast ready to give instant 

158 



THE ANTIQUARY 

alarm, and militia organizations were everywhere kept 
in a state of readiness. A false alarm on February 2, 
1804, brought out the volunteers of Berwickshire, Rox- 
burghshire, and Selkirkshire with surprising rapidity. 
Scott had gone with his wife for a visit to Gilsland, the 
scene of their courtship. He was then a member of the 
Edinburgh Volunteers. When the alarm came he 
promptly mounted his horse and rode with all speed to 
Dalkeith, a distance of one hundred miles, within 
twenty-four hours. The alarm had subsided when he 
reached his destination, and after a few jolly evenings 
with his fellow volunteers he returned to the south. It 
was on this hurried trip that he composed a poem, 
entitled, 'The Bard's Incantation.' 

'The Antiquary' thus closes as it began, with a leaf 
out of the author's personal experience. I have no doubt 
that he heartily enjoyed its composition. It must have 
been an exquisite pleasure to one so appreciative of genu- 
ine humour to caricature his own antiquarian foibles; 
to weave into the pages of romance the many tales he 
had heard in his youth of a character so interesting as 
the old 'gaberlunzie'; and to make the people of his 
fancy walk the streets of the ancient seaport town, visit 
the old abbey, saunter along the cliffs of the seashore, 
or roam about over the adjacent country, where he had 
spent many pleasant hours in the company of well- 
loved friends. 

Although Scott's own opinion at first was that 'The 
Antiquary' lacked the romance of 'Waverley' and the 
adventure of 'Guy Mannering,' yet in subsequent years 
he came to regard it as his favourite among all the 
Waverley Novels. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE BLACK DWARF 

Late in the afternoon of a beautiful May day, while on 
one of our drives from Melrose, we turned off the main 
road a few miles west of Peebles, and, crossing the 
Tweed, entered the vale of Manor Water. This secluded 
valley, peaceful and charming, would make an ideal 
retreat for any one who wished to escape the noise and 
confusion of a busy world. The distinguished philoso- 
pher and historian, Dr. Adam Ferguson, found it so, 
when in old age he took up his residence at Hallyards, 
where his young friend, Walter Scott, paid him a visit in 
the memorable summer of 1797. 

It was not a desire to retire from worldly activities, 
however, or to visit the house of Dr. Ferguson, that led 
us into the quiet valley. Our purpose was to see the 
former home of one of the strangest human beings who 
ever lived; one who found the seclusion of the beautiful 
vale well adapted to shield him from the unwelcome 
observation of the curious-minded. David Ritchie, or 
'Bow'd Davie o' the Wud'use,' 1 as he was called, was 
for many years a familiar figure to the few farmers of 
the valley. He was born about 1735, and lived to be 
seventy-six years of age. He had been horribly deformed 
from birth. His shoulders were broad and muscular, and 
his arms unusually long and powerful, though he could 
not lift them higher than his breast. But Nature seemed 

1 Or Bowed Davie of the Woodhouse Farm. 
160 



THE BLACK DWARF 

to have omitted providing him with legs and thighs. 
The upper part of his body, with proportions seemingly 
intended for a giant, was set upon short fin-like legs, so 
small that when he stood erect they were almost invisible. 
His height was scarcely three feet and a half. His feet 
were badly adapted for walking and were kept wrapped 
in masses of rags as though they were the particular 
feature of which their owner was most ashamed. So 
completely did he depend upon the strength of his arms 
and chest that, unable to use his feet in the ordinary way 
in digging his garden, he contrived a peculiar spade 
which he could force into the soil with his breast. With 
his great arms he had been known to tear a tree up by 
the roots, which had defied the strength of two ordinary 
men. 

His head was unusually large, particularly behind the 
ears. He had a long nose, a wide, ugly mouth, and a pro- 
truding chin covered with a grisly black beard. He had 
eyes of piercing black which in moments of excitement 
gleamed with wild and awe-inspiring brightness. His 
voice was shrill, harsh, and discordant, more like that of 
a screech-owl than a human being, and his laugh was 
said to be horrible. 

His mind corresponded in deformity with his body. 
He was eccentric, irritable, jealous, and strangely super- 
stitious. He was sensitive beyond all reason and could 
not endure even the glance of his curious fellow men. 
He read insult and scorn in faces where neither was 
intended. He thoroughly despised all children and most 
strangers. His whole nature seemed to have been 
poisoned with bitterness of spirit because he was not 
like other men. Scott was introduced to this singular 

161 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

individual by Dr. Ferguson, who had taken a great in- 
terest in him. Nineteen years later, and five years after 
the death of David Ritchie, he made the recluse of 
Manor Valley known to the world as 'The Black Dwarf,' 
in the first of the 'Tales of My Landlord.' 

We found the cottage a little off the road and not far 
from the river, nestling under the brow of a hill. I 
should, perhaps, say two cottages, joined together and 
nearly of the same size. The one on the left is of com- 
paratively recent date and has a weather-stained bust of 
Sir Walter over the door. The older cottage is divided 
by a partition. On the right is a door and window of 
ordinary size. On the left is a door three and a half feet 
high and a very small window. There is no means of 
communication between the two apartments. The left 
side was occupied by David Ritchie and the right by 
his half-crazed sister, Agnes. There was never any 
affection between these two unfortunates, but on the 
contrary, and in spite of the loneliness of their lives, 
there was an almost complete estrangement. 

The cottage has a stone over the dwarf's door in- 
scribed 'D. R. 1802.' This commemorates the date 
when it was built, by the charity of Sir James Nasmyth, 
the owner of the land. It replaces a hut built by David 
himself in very much the same manner as described in 
the novel. With his own hands the dwarf rolled the 
heavy stones down from the hill, and with what seemed 
to be almost superhuman strength, lifted them into posi- 
tion. He enlisted the aid of passers-by, however, to help 
lift the weightiest ones, which added to the wonderment 
of the next comers, who could not know how much he 
had been assisted. Scott says he settled on the land 

162 



THE BLACK DWARF 

without asking or receiving permission, but was allowed 
to remain when discovered by the good-natured laird. 
William Chambers, however, who gave considerable 
study to the subject, says that the owner not only gave 
him possession of the ground rent-free, but instructed 
his servants to render such assistance as might be 
required. 

The immediate occasion of building a house in this 
sequestered neighbourhood was the fact that Ritchie's 
painful sensitiveness about his ungainly appearance 
made it intolerable for him to remain in Edinburgh, 
whither he had gone to learn the trade of brush-making. 
Whatever instinct guided him to Manor Water, he could 
scarcely have found anywhere in Scotland a location 
better adapted to his requirements. 

Here the good part of his nature asserted itself — for 
there is good in every human being, if only the key can 
be discovered that unlocks the secret chambers. The 
poor misshapen dwarf found his in the cultivation of a 
little garden, shut out from an unsympathetic world by 
a stone wall of his own construction. Within this sacred 
enclosure a profusion of flowers rankly unfolded their 
beauties to his eyes and shrank not from his touch. He 
had contrived to obtain some rare exotics and to learn 
their scientific names. He planted fruit trees in his 
garden and surrounded his little house with willows 
and mountain ashes, until he had converted it into a 
fairy bower. He found pleasure and profit in the raising 
of vegetables, and even cultivated certain medicinal 
herbs which he sold or gave to the neighbours. He also 
supplied some of the gentlemen of the vicinity with 
honey and took great delight in the care of his bees. A 

163 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

cat, a dog, and a goat completed the roll of his best-loved 
companions. 

Besides the pleasure he took in the contemplation of 
his own garden, Ritchie was an ardent admirer of the 
natural beauty of the country which he had chosen for 
his home. 'The soft sweep of the green hill, the bubbling 
of a clear fountain or the complexities of a wild thicket, 
were scenes on which he often gazed for hours and, as 
he said, with inexpressible delight.' He felt that sense 
of rest and refreshment from the contemplation of nature 
which Bryant has so finely expressed: — 

To him who in the love of Nature holds 
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
A various language: for his gayer hours 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
Into his darker musings, with a mild 
And healing sympathy, that steals away 
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. 

To this great comfort, the poor misanthrope added 
another — the reading of good books. He was fond of 
the history of Wallace, Bruce, and other Scottish heroes, 
and he also had a love of poetry. Scott speaks of his 
familiarity with 'Paradise Lost' and says he has heard 
'his most unmusical voice repeat the celebrated descrip- 
tion of Paradise, which he seemed fully to appreciate.' 
Though not a man of orthodox religious beliefs, he would 
occasionally speak of the future life with great earnest- 
ness and on such occasions would sometimes burst into 
tears. He had chosen a wild and beautiful spot on a 
neighbouring hillside for the place of his burial. It was 
covered with green ferns and enclosed with a circle of 
his favourite rowan or mountain ash, planted with his 

164 



THE BLACK DWARF 

own hands, partly because of their beauty, but largely 
on account of their potency in guarding the grave 
against evil spirits. He haughtily expressed great abhor- 
rence of being interred in the parish churchyard with 
what he contemptuously called the 'common brush/ 
but in the last moments his heart became softened 
towards his fellow men, his antipathies relaxed, and his 
final wish was that he might be buried with his fathers. 
The writing of a novel based upon a character so 
grotesque and repellent was not well suited to a man of 
Scott's wholesome and genial temperament. He soon 
tired of it, and indeed the only satisfaction he got out of 
it was in presenting the better side of the Black Dwarf's 
nature. He came in time to agree with the criticism of 
the publisher, William Blackwood, to which at first 
he had strenuously objected, and the novel, originally 
intended to be in two volumes, was crowded into one 
and hurried to an end, thereby producing a narrative, as 
the author facetiously remarked in later years, ' as much 
disproportioned and distorted as the Black Dwarf, who 
is its subject.' 



CHAPTER XII 

OLD MORTALITY 

In the grounds of the Observatory at Maxwelltown, 
across the river from Dumfries, is a small pavilion, 
enclosing two sculptured figures. One represents an old 
Scotchman, half reclining on a tombstone, a chisel in 
his left hand and a mallet resting by his side; the other 
is a pony, apparently waiting for his master to arise. 
The sculptures were the work of a local artist. They 
were disposed of by lottery to a young man, who died 
by accident the next day, and they are here deposited as 
a curious 'memorial to departed worth.' 

The figures, thus used as a monument to the man who 
chanced to own them, were intended to represent a very 
different person. 'Old Mortality' and his pony were 
familiar to the people of Dumfriesshire and other parts 
of Scotland for more than forty years. His real name, 
as is well known, was Robert Paterson. He was a mason 
or stone-cutter by trade, who operated a small quarry. 
In middle life he became so thoroughly imbued with the 
religious enthusiasm of the Cameronians, of which aus- 
tere sect he was a zealous member, that he felt impelled 
to desert his wife and five children, in order that he 
might perform the duty which, he conceived, had de- 
volved upon him. This was to travel about the country 
and repair the gravestones of the martyred Covenant- 
ers. He would clear off the moss from the old stones and 
recut the half-defaced inscriptions, doing this often in 

166 



OLD MORTALITY 

remote and almost inaccessible recesses of the mount- 
ains and moors. Scarcely a churchyard in Ayr, Gallo- 
way, or Dumfriesshire is without some evidences of his 
work. 

In spite of his eccentricity there was a fine sincerity of 
purpose in the old man's devotion to his self-appointed 
task. He believed that each grave should serve as a 
warning to posterity to defend their religious faith, and 
he purposed to make every one, however obscure, a 
beacon light, so to speak, to proclaim to all the world 
the sufferings and devotion of the Covenanters, and thus 
to perpetuate the ideals for which they strove. However 
mistaken he may have been as to the wisdom of his 
methods, his calling was apparently as real to himself and 
as sincere as that of any minister of the Gospel. He was 
found dying on the highway one day in his eighty-sixth 
year, the little old white pony standing patiently by his 
side. Thus he wore out his life in the service of his relig- 
ion, as truly devoted to it as any of the martyrs who 
perished on battle-field or scaffold. His grave is marked 
by an appropriate stone in the churchyard of Caer- 
laverock, south of Dumfries. 

Scott, who once met the old man in the churchyard of 
Dunottar and saw him actually engaged in his usual 
task, sought an interview, but in spite of a good dinner 
and some liquid refreshments, which were quite accept- 
able, was unable to induce him to speak of his expe- 
riences. This was when the novelist was a young lawyer 
and long before he had thought of looking for materials 
for a novel. 

' Old Mortality,' which many, including Lord Tenny- 
son, have regarded as the greatest of Scott's novels, was 

167 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

introduced to the public in a curious way. The real 
author, as usual, concealed his identity. The ostensible 
writer is Jedediah Cleishbotham, a schoolmaster, who 
in turn denies the actual authorship of the story, but 
claims to be merely the possessor of some posthumous 
papers of his late pupil, Peter Pattieson, who has only 
transcribed some tales he had heard from the landlord 
of Wallace Inn. Even the landlord was not original, for 
he received his information from the lips of ' Old Mor- 
tality.' Thus, by a circuitous route, the novelist derives 
this lengthy but extremely interesting tale from old 
Robert Paterson, whom he never saw but once, and 
then failed to make him talk! 

After the Introduction and the first chapter, in which 
'Old Mortality' is briefly presented, we hear no more of 
him. In this respect the novel irresistibly reminds me 
of the celebrated American humourist, who advertised 
his lecture on ' Milk.' When his usual large audience had 
assembled, he would step to the front of the platform 
and pour out, from a pitcher conveniently provided for 
the purpose, a glass of milk, which he would drink with 
great deliberation before uttering a word. The lecture 
then followed in which he kept his hearers convulsed 
with laughter, but there was never a word about milk. 

Three events, all within the space of two months, form 
the historical basis of 'Old Mortality.' These are the 
murder of Archbishop Sharp on May 3, 1679, the skir- 
mish at Drumclog on June 1, and the battle of Bothwell 
Bridge, June 22. It was during the era of the persecu- 
tion, in the reign of Charles II, of the Scottish Covenant- 
ers, who persistently resisted the 'Conventicle Act' 
forbidding the gathering of more than five persons for 

168 



OLD MORTALITY 

religious worship, except in accordance with the Estab- 
lished Church. James Sharp, Archbishop of St. An- 
drews, had incurred the hatred of the Covenanters by 
selfishly betraying the Scottish Kirk. An attempt upon 
his life was made in 1668 by Robert Mitchell, who was 
not arrested until six years later. He confessed under 
Sharp's personal promise of pardon, but was sent to 
Bass Island, where he remained a prisoner without trial 
for four years. Sharp then denied his promise, though 
it was proved by the court records, and demanded 
Mitchell's death. His base action met with speedy 
revenge. While driving with his daughter he was set 
upon by a party of nine men and put to death with 
the most atrocious cruelty. 

The real leader in this murder was John Balfour of 
Burley, one of the fiercest and most fanatical of the 
proscribed sect. Though he professed the utmost relig- 
ious fervour, Burley was more noted for the violence 
and zeal with which he undertook the most desperate 
enterprises and for his courage and skill with the sword. 
The murder of Sharp aroused the Government to new 
activities and no less stimulated the zeal of the Cove- 
nanters. Burley and a handful of his followers openly 
defied their enemies. On the anniversary of the Restora- 
tion, May 29, they interrupted the holiday, which they 
considered 'presumptuous and unholy.' They rode into 
the town of Rutherglen, extinguished the bonfires in 
honour of the day, burned the acts of Parliament for the 
suppression of the conventicles and other obnoxious 
laws, and concluded their 'solemn testimony' with 
prayer and psalms. 

Three days later a conventicle was held near Loudon 
169 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Hill, at which no doubt sermons like those of Gabriel 
Kettledrummle and Habakkuk Mucklewrath were 
preached with fiery vehemence. The Covenanters 
seemed to depend upon their religious enthusiasm, for 
they were poorly armed and badly organized. Men and 
women who had no arms marched out to battle, relying 
upon 'the spirit given forth from the Lord.' They did 
not wait to be attacked, but advanced eastward about 
two miles from Loudon Hill to the farm of Drumclog, 
singing psalms all the way. Whether by accident or 
design they made their stand on peculiarly favourable 
ground behind a marsh too soft to support the weight of 
cavalry. As it was covered with green herbage and only 
a few yards in width, the attacking party, led by John 
Grahame of Claverhouse, did not know of its existence. 

'No quarter' was the word passed along on both 
sides. Claverhouse and his dragoons, despising their 
foe, dashed down the declivity. The horses' feet were 
entangled in the marsh and the ranks thrown into con- 
fusion. The Covenanters, seizing the opportunity for 
which they had waited, made a spirited attack and com- 
pletely routed the cavalry, Claverhouse himself having 
a narrow escape. Thirty-six dragoons were killed, while 
the victors lost only three. The successful skirmish 
aroused tremendous enthusiasm among the Cove- 
nanters, and had they been able to maintain har- 
mony in their own ranks, might have led to a serious 
rebellion. 

It did lead to the battle of Bothwell Bridge which 
took place on the 226. of the same month, June, 1679. 
The Government leader was the Duke of Monmouth, 
who was anxious to preserve peace and avoid bloodshed. 

170 



OLD MORTALITY 

The more moderate of the insurgents sent a message 
offering terms upon which they would surrender. The 
Duke offered to interpose with the King on their behalf, 
provided they would first lay down their arms. The 
Cameronians violently opposed the moderate policy 
and favoured a fierce and even desperate resistance. 
While they were debating the question, the sound of the 
enemy's guns broke in upon them. In their disorganized 
condition, the cause of the Covenanters was hopeless 
and the Government gained an easy victory. Claver- 
house rode at the head of his own troop, who were thus 
able to avenge the disgraceful defeat at Drumclog. 

It was the portrait of John Grahame of Claverhouse, 
hanging in the library of Abbotsford, which, according to 
Lockhart, first suggested the idea of the novel. Joseph 
Train had called to present the purse of Rob Roy and 
'a fresh heap of traditionary gleanings, which he had 
gathered among the tale-tellers of his district.' Notic- 
ing the handsome features revealed by the portrait of a 
man whom most Scotchmen regarded as 'a ruffian des- 
perado, who rode a goblin horse, was proof against shot, 
and in league with the Devil,' Train expressed his sur- 
prise. After Scott had defended his hero's character, 
Train, always alive to the possibilities of a new story, 
asked whether he might not 'be made, in good hands, 
the hero of a national romance, as interesting as any 
about either Wallace or Prince Charlie.' Upon receiving 
the novelist's conditional assent, Train resumed: 'And 
what if the story were to be delivered as if from the 
mouth of " Old Mortality ? " ' Train then told what he 
knew of old Paterson, offering to learn more and report 
later. Though Scott did not mention it at the time, the 

171 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

conversation recalled his earlier meeting with Paterson, 

and led to the immediate writing of the novel. 

The scenery of ' Old Mortality ' required us to explore 

the course of the river Clyde for almost its entire length. 

This picturesque stream rises in the high country near 

Moffat. An old rhyme, as repeated to us by a native of 

Moffat, runs thus: — 

Evan, Annan, Tweed and Clyde 
All flow out from ae hillside. 

In its short course of less than seventy-five miles to 
the Firth of Clyde at Dumbarton, it descends toward 
the sea by leaps and bounds, forming a series of beauti- 
ful cataracts. The highest and most famous of these 
is Corra Linn where Wordsworth composed a poem, 
inspired by the sight of Wallace's Tower. Here the river 
takes a triple plunge over the rocks for a distance of 
eighty-four feet. Not less imposing is Stonebyres Linn, 
below the city of Lanark, where the fall is seventy-six 
feet. 

Following the downward course of the stream we 
came to the ruins of Craignethan Castle, at the juncture 
of the Nethan with the Clyde. 'A crag above the river 
Nethan' is the literal meaning of the name. This is 
Tillietudlem, the castle which Scott made the residence 
of Lady Bellenden and her granddaughter, Edith. A 
ravine under the old castle of Lanark, near by, known as 
Gillytudlem, no doubt suggested the name. 

In the autumn of 1799, while on a visit to Lord Doug- 
las at Bothwell Castle, on the Clyde, Scott made an 
excursion to Craignethan and, as he afterwards said, 
immediately fell in love with it so much that he wanted 
to live there. Lord Douglas offered him the use for life 

172 



OLD MORTALITY 

of a very good house at one corner of the court. It was 
built in 1665 and we found it still in excellent repair. 
Scott did not at once decline the offer, but circumstances 
made it impossible to accept. That he made a very care- 
ful examination of the ruin, however, is shown by the 
unusually accurate descriptions. 

The castle stands on a high rock, reached by a long 
road through the woods, by the side of a deep glen. I 
climbed some stairways through a corner of the building 
which still remains intact, and stood on the ruined bat- 
tlement from which Major Bellenden valiantly defended 
the castle. Here I had a fine view over the tree-tops and 
could see the village of Braidwood, two miles away; but 
the road over which Lady Bellenden saw the troops 
approaching was not visible to my eyes. 

From this point also I had a good view of the court, 
which I could fancy almost filled with a motley crowd of 
soldiers, domestic servants, and retainers, including the 
bluff and stout-hearted Sergeant Bothwell, who died 
'hoping nothing, believing nothing — and fearing no- 
thing'; the intrepid Tarn Halliday; the infamous Inglis; 
the old drunken cavaliering butler, John Gudyill; the 
faithful ploughman, Cuddie Headrigg, with his sweet- 
heart, Jenny Dennison; and even poor little half-witted 
Goose Gibbie, muffled in a big buff coat, ' girded rather 
to than with the sword of a full-grown man, ' his feeble 
legs 'plunged into jack-boots ' and a steel cap on his head 
so big as completely to extinguish him. In the centre of 
the court is the entrance gate, formerly the chapel; on 
the right a watch-tower and stable, and on the left the 
very substantial house now occupied by the keeper's 
family, to which I have referred. 

173 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

The keeper next conducted me to the rear of the cas- 
tle, where he pointed out a well-preserved square tower 
below which the ground slopes at a sharp angle to the 
river's edge. The lower part was used as a dungeon, 
where we may suppose Henry Morton to have been con- 
fined. It was once occupied by a nobleman of real life, 
who, not so fortunate as the hero of the novel, was led 
away to execution. Above the dungeon was the kitchen 
and pantry, with windows perhaps twenty feet above 
the ground. At the corner there was once an old yew, 
the stump of which may still be seen. 

Readers of 'Old Mortality' will recall that during the 
siege of the castle, Cuddie Headrigg, though an old serv- 
ant, found himself with the opposing army. With five 
or six companions he found his way to the rear, where 
there was less danger, and proceeded to attempt to cap- 
ture the stronghold by climbing the tree and gaining 
access through the window of the pantry. All might 
have gone well had it not been for the fact that Jenny 
Dennison had chosen the pantry as the safest place of 
retreat. When, therefore, Cuddie's figure appeared at 
the window, clad in the steel cap and buff coat which 
had belonged to Sergeant Bothwell, Jenny not only 
failed to recognize her lover, but was terribly frightened. 
With an hysteric scream she rushed to the kitchen, 
where she had hung on the fire a pot of kail-brose (a 
kind of vegetable stew), having promised to prepare 
Tarn Halliday his breakfast. Seizing the pot and still 
screaming, she jumped to the window and poured the 
whole scalding contents upon the head and shoulders 
of the unfortunate Cuddie, thus 'conferring upon one 
admirer's outward man the viands which her fair hands 

174 



OLD MORTALITY 

had so lately been in the act of preparing for the 
stomach of another.' 

I had great difficulty in photographing this tower. 
The declivity was so steep that it was almost impossible 
either to place the tripod in proper position or to find a 
footing from which to look into the camera. While in 
the midst of my preparations the keeper informed me 
casually that a man had fallen down the slope three 
weeks before and broken his neck. With this encourage- 
ment, I persevered and was finally able to obtain what 
I believe to be one of the best evidences of the accuracy 
with which Scott often made his investigations and sub- 
sequent descriptions. 

On one of our excursions from Melrose, we followed 
the course of the Yarrow, from its junction with the 
Ettrick to its source in St. Mary's Loch; then continuing 
to the southwest, we traced the course of Moffat Water, 
which forms the outlet of the Loch of the Lowes, to a 
point just above the place where the stream meets the 
Evan and the Annan; then turning westward and pass- 
ing through the town of Moffat, we followed the course 
of the Tweed northward and eastward from its source 
to our starting-place. For a large part of this drive, we 
were in wild, desolate regions, which presented to us, we 
were well assured, exactly the same aspect as they did 
to Sir Walter Scott, and to the Covenanters a century 
or more before his time. From St. Mary's Loch to Mof- 
fat and from the latter northward for at least fifteen or 
twenty miles, we were in the very region where the Cov- 
enanters were wont to find a safe retreat from persecu- 
tion. 

Scott was fond of riding through these wild mountain 

175 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

passes, and often did so with his friend, Skene, of Rubis- 
law, who has left an entertaining account of one of these 
expeditions: — 

One of our earliest expeditions was to visit the wild scen- 
ery of the mountainous tract above Moffat, including the 
cascade of the Grey Mare's Tail and the dark tarn called 
Loch Skene. In our ascent to the lake we got completely 
bewildered in the thick fog which generally envelops the 
rugged features of that lovely region; and as we were groping 
through the maze of bogs, the ground gave way, and down 
went horse and horsemen pell-mell into a slough of peaty 
mud and black water, out of which, entangled as we were 
with our plaids and floundering nags, it was no easy matter 
to get extricated. Indeed, unless we had prudently left our 
gallant steeds at a farmhouse below and borrowed hill-ponies 
for the occasion, the result might have been worse than 
laughable. As it was, we rose like the spirits of the bogs, 
covered cap-a-pie with slime, to free themselves from which 
our wily ponies took to rolling about on the heather, and we 
had nothing for it but following their example. At length, as 
we approached the gloomy loch, a huge eagle heaved himself 
from the margin and rose right over us, screaming his scorn 
of the intruders; and altogether it would be impossible to pic- 
ture anything more desolately savage than the scene which 
opened, as if raised by enchantment on purpose to gratify 
the poet's eye, thick clouds of fog rolling incessantly over the 
face of the inky waters, but rent asunder, now in one direc- 
tion and then in another — so as to afford us a glimpse of 
some projecting rock or naked point of land, or island bear- 
ing a few scraggy stumps of pine — and then closing again 
in universal darkness upon the cheerless waste. Much of the 
scenery of ' Old Mortality' was drawn from that day's ride. 

James Hogg, who conducted the party on that day, 
says : — 

I conducted them through that wild region by a path, 
which if not rode by Clavers, as reported, never was rode by 

176 



OLD MORTALITY 

another gentleman. ... Sir Walter, in the very worst paths, 
never dismounted save at Loch Skene to take some dinner. 
We went to Moffat that night, where we met with Lady 
Scott and Sophia and such a day and night of glee I never 
witnessed. Our very perils were to him matters of infinite 
merriment. 

The Grey Mare's Tail is a waterfall three or four hun- 
dred feet in height, forming the outlet of Loch Skene. It 
is a narrow stream and the water comes boiling and bub- 
bling in foamy whiteness over the ruggedestof rocks and 
through the wildest of ravines. 

I am inclined to think that Scott, in striving to find a 
retreat for Balfour, or Burley, poetically in keeping with 
the stern, fierce, and dangerous character of that terri- 
ble individual, combined the awesome features of the 
Grey Mare's Tail with the wild beauty of another ravine 
which he had visited. The latter is the deep gulch 
known as Crichope Linn, near the village of Closeburn, 
north of Dumfries. A narrow stream, flowing through 
a thick wood, has cut a deep chasm in the solid rock, 
through which the water has carved many curious chan- 
nels. One of these is called 'Hell's Cauldron,' where the 
water has worn a deep round hole, through which it 
rushes with terrific force. Near by is the Soutar's Seat, 
so called from the legend that a 'soutar' or cobbler used 
to conceal himself there to mend the shoes of the Cove- 
nanters. 

I had the pleasure of walking up the stream to the 
falls through the wet woods, in a rainstorm, without a 
guide. The loneliness of my situation, — for I did not 
encounter a soul on the journey, — added to the mist 
in the atmosphere, gave an impression, which I might 

177 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

not otherwise have had, of the absolute security of such 
a hiding-place. I tried to fancy old Burley appearing 
at some opening in the rocks and myself leaping across 
the chasm, as did Henry Morton, to get out of his way. 
I was not obliged to attempt any such feat. But I felt 
that a visit to this strange locality had given me a better 
idea of the closing scenes of the novel than I had ever 
had before. 

'Old Mortality' will always be remembered for its 
animated picture of the Covenanters and the conditions 
under which they lived. It was an era of perverted senti- 
ment in politics and religion. The times were 'out of 
joint' more truly than in the days of Hamlet. A power- 
ful and tyrannical Government was exhibiting cowardly 
fear of a small minority of determined people, who 
demanded only the rights that had been previously 
guaranteed. A policy of intolerant persecution pre- 
vailed. The bullies of the Government laughed to scorn 
the more statesmanlike propositions of moderation and 
fair dealing. Under these conditions a helpless and 
miserable people found their strength in an underlying 
perception of the truth and justice of their cause. They 
were exhibiting that quality which, from Magna Charta 
to the present time, has come to the front at every 
crisis in the history of Britain and America and is at the 
root of the power of the Anglo-Saxon race — the qual- 
ity of earnest and sincere faith in the right of man to 
civil liberty and religious freedom. If, in the excess of 
their enthusiasm, these people became bigoted and in- 
tolerant, and if their frenzied reading of the Scriptures 
enabled them to find texts to justify every sort of deed 
of violence and cruelty, the harsh measures of a corrupt, 

178 




CRICHOPE LINN 



OLD MORTALITY 

selfish, and incompetent Government would at least 
explain the unhappy conditions. 

Scott's marvellous imagination enabled him to reani- 
mate the people of this excited period. In Habakkuk 
Mucklewrath we have the extreme of crazy religious 
fervor and in Balfour of Burley the perfect embodiment 
of that brute force which was so strangely blended with 
pious ideals. Henry Morton, the hero of the tale, whose 
lot is cast with the Covenanters, is out of place in the 
picture, but he sufficiently typifies that class who were 
opposed to the extreme measures of the Cameronians. 

On the Government side, Claverhouse, to whom Scott 
endeavours to do justice, General Dalzell, the Duke of 
Monmouth, and the Duke of Lauderdale are pictured, 
fairly enough, in the colours of history. 

Scott's treatment of the Covenanters aroused great 
controversy, some of their admirers taking him to task 
in severe terms for his alleged lack of fairness. What- 
ever may be said on this point, there is no doubt that he 
touches the true sublimity of their faith in his account 
of the torture and death of the Reverend Ephraim Mac- 
briar. The dauntless preacher was brought before the 
Privy Council and interrogated by the Duke of Lauder- 
dale. Refusing to reply to an important question, he 
was dramatically confronted with the ghastly apparition 
of the public executioner and his horrible implements of 
torture. 

'Do you know who that man is? ' said Lauderdale in a low, 
stern voice, almost sinking into a whisper. 

'He is, I suppose,' replied Macbriar, 'the infamous execu- 
tioner of your bloodthirsty commands upon the persons of 
God's people. He and you are equally beneath my regard; 

179 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

and, I bless God, I no more fear what he can inflict than what 
you can command. Flesh and blood may shrink under the 
sufferings you can doom me to, and poor frail nature may 
shed tears, or send forth cries; but I trust my soul is anchored 
firmly on the rock of ages.' 

By the Duke's command the executioner then ad- 
vanced and placed before the prisoner an iron case 
called the Scottish boot, so constructed that it would 
enclose the leg and knee of the victim with a tight fit. 
An iron wedge and a mallet completed the equipment. 
This wedge, when placed between the knee and the 
unyielding iron frame, and struck a sharp blow with the 
mallet, was calculated to inflict the most excruciating 
pain. 

Macbriar faced the implement without flinching, 
while the executioner asked in harsh, discordant tones 
which leg he should take first. 

' Since you leave it to me,' said the prisoner, stretching 
forth his right leg, ' take the best — I willingly bestow it in 
the cause for which I suffer.' 

Here Scott makes use of the actual words of James 
Mitchell, who suffered similar torture for his attempt 
on the life of Archbishop Sharp. 

When Macbriar was led to his execution, he thanked 
the Council for his sentence and forgave them, say- 
ing:— 

And why should I not? — Ye send me to a happy exchange 
— to the company of angels and spirits of the just, for that 
of frail dust and ashes. — Ye send me from darkness into 
day — from mortality to immortality — and in a word, from 
earth to heaven! If the thanks therefore, and pardon of a 
dying man can do you good, take them at my hand, and 
may your last moments be as happy as mine! 

1 80 



OLD MORTALITY 

And thus, 'his countenance radiant with joy and tri- 
umph,' he was led to his execution, 'dying with the 
same enthusiastic firmness which his whole life had 
evinced.' 

The book which contains this superb presentation of 
a thrilling epoch of Scottish history is justly termed, by 
Lockhart, the Marmion of the Waverley Novels. 



CHAPTER XIII 

ROB ROY 

An old flintlock gun of extreme length, with silver plate 
containing the initials R. M. C; a fine Highland broad- 
sword, with the highly prized Andrea Ferrara mark on 
the blade; a dirk two feet long, with carved handle and 
silver-mounted sheath; a skene dhu, or black knife, a 
short thick weapon of the kind used in the Highlands for 
dispatching game or other servile purposes for which it 
would be a profanation to use the dirk; a well-worn 
brown leather purse; and a sporran, with semicircular 
clasp and secret lock, which for a century has defied the 
ingenuity of all who have attempted to open it, are 
among the treasures of Abbotsford. They were all once 
the property of Robert MacGregor Campbell, or Rob 
Roy, the famous 'Robin Hood of the Highlands.' 

When I was permitted to take the long old-fashioned 
gun into my own hands and to test its weight by carry- 
ing the butt to my shoulder and casting my eye over the 
long octagonal barrel, I could not help feeling that Rob 
Roy was a far less mythical person than his prototype 
of the Forest of Sherwood. 

Rob Roy was, indeed, a very real person, as the Duke 
of Montrose knew to his sorrow, but the stories of his 
exploits are so strange, and at the same time so fascinat- 
ing, that it is difficult to determine where biography ends 
and pure fiction begins. The MacGregor clan to which 
he belonged had been for three hundred years the victims 

182 



ROB ROY 

of gross injustice. David II, the son of Robert Bruce, 
began the oppression by wrongfully bestowing their 
lands upon the rival clan of the Campbells. The Mac- 
Gregors were forced to a struggle for self-preservation, 
and manfully fought to maintain their rights, exhibiting 
extraordinary courage and endurance. But their acts of 
heroism and self-defence were construed at court as evi- 
dences of lawlessness and rebellion. Strenuous efforts 
were made to suppress them, but all such attempts were 
met with fiery vindictiveness. Each act of violence led 
to one of vengeance. The clan came to be regarded as a 
fierce and untameable race of outlaws. Rendered savage 
and cruel by a treatment which left no lawful means of 
obtaining a livelihood, pursued with fire and sword by 
the leaders of powerful neighbouring clans, whose sub- 
jects were forbidden to give them food or shelter, the 
MacGregors were driven to desperation. Violent deeds 
of retaliation occurred which no amount of provocation 
would justify. Murders, outrages, and bloody skir- 
mishes were of frequent occurrence. These conflicts 
reached a terrible crisis in the battle of Glenfruin, 
fought on the shores of Loch Lomond with the powerful 
clan of Colquhoun, of whom two hundred or three hun- 
dred were slaughtered, many of them being killed with- 
out reason after the battle was over. 

One of the leaders of the MacGregors, who was 
accused, perhaps unjustly, of murdering a party of cler- 
ical students who had merely stopped to witness the 
fight, was Dugald Ciar Mohr, the 'great mouse-coloured 
man,' so called from the colour of his face and hair. He 
was a man of ferocious character and enormous strength, 
and was one of the ancestors of Rob Roy. 

183 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

This event led to various Acts of Council, proscrib- 
ing the MacGregors as outlaws, prohibiting them from 
carrying weapons, and forbidding them even to meet 
together in groups of more than four. The very name 
of the clan was abolished, and any one who should call 
himself either Gregor or MacGregor was made liable to 
suffer the penalty of death. 

Rob Roy was the product of these long years of relent- 
less persecution and retaliation. His family occupied 
the mountain ranges between Loch Lomond and Loch 
Katrine, where they possessed considerable property. 
The date of his birth is uncertain, but it was probably 
1660 or 1 66 1. In the latter year, through the orders of 
King Charles II, the acts against the MacGregors were 
annulled and their name restored. The king, however, 
could not annul the effects of three centuries of civil 
warfare and vengeful retribution, nor prevent Rob Roy 
from inheriting some of the traits of his 'mouse-coloured' 
ancestor. Rob is described as a man of medium height, 
but of extraordinary strength. His powers of endur- 
ance were greater than those of any other member of his 
clan. His arms were said to be seven inches longer than 
those of the average man. This gave him a great advan- 
tage with the broadsword, which he could wield with 
uncommon skill and effectiveness. His head was cov- 
ered with a shock of thick, curly red hair, from which 
fact he derived his name, Rob Roy, or Rob the Red. 
He had keen, flashing, grey eyes and a firm mouth, 
which betokened a man with whom it would be danger- 
ous to trifle, but these features could be frank, cheerful, 
and full of kindness when among his friends. He had 
none of the ferocity or cruelty of that ancestor whose 

184 



ROB ROY 

great powers he seemed to have inherited. On the con- 
trary, though bold in the execution of his purposes, he 
avoided unnecessary bloodshed. Though driven by fate 
to the life of an outlaw, he was a man of humane instincts 
and under happier circumstances might have been a 
public benefactor. 

This is the explanation of his extraordinary success 
in eluding pursuit. His kindliness of disposition and 
friendly helpfulness had raised up friends in every part 
of the country. In this respect he was like Robin Hood. 
He struck at the rich and powerful when they molested 
him, but to the poor he was generous and helpful. He 
was a kind and gentle robber, who carried a sense of 
humour into his boldest outrages, and contrived to take 
the property of his rich enemy without molesting the 
latter's poor tenants, usually managing to make the vic- 
tim ridiculous in the eyes of his associates. 

Again and again the Duke of Montrose sent expedi- 
tions after him, but invariably some friend of Rob's 
carried the news to him well in advance or sent the 
Duke's people off in a wrong direction, so that they 
were always either disgracefully defeated or hopelessly 
bewildered. Meanwhile, Rob would be pretty sure to 
appear unexpectedly at some point on the Duke's estate 
and sweep away everything in sight. Each new failure 
brought added wrath to the Duke, which the satirical 
remarks of his companions did not tend to soften. 

When Montrose deprived MacGregor of his lands of 
Craigroyston, along the eastern shore of Loch Lomond, 
Rob had no redress in the courts, but he managed to 
square accounts pretty well by driving off annually 
large numbers of the Duke's cattle, and collecting rents, 

185 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

for which he invariably gave receipts. He made Craig- 
royston unbearable for any one who attempted to live 
there, until finally a Mr. Graham of Killearn, the Duke's 
factor, took possession. This was exactly what Rob Roy 
wanted, for Graham was the man who, in MacGregor's 
absence, had burned the house of the latter at Bal- 
quhidder and brutally thrust his wife out of doors in a 
cold winter night. Rob ever after regarded him with 
fierce vindictiveness. Graham's cattle mysteriously dis- 
appeared time after time until Craigroyston became 
unbearable for him also. 

Rob had a queer way of appearing suddenly in places 
where he was least expected. One day when Graham 
was drinking at a tavern and angrily relating his troubles 
to a chance acquaintance, he exclaimed, 'Gin God or 
the de'il wad gie me a meeting wi' that thievin' loon, 
Rob Roy MacGregor, I 'd pay arf my score wi' him. But 
the villain aye keeps oot o'my road.' 'Here we are, 
then,' was the reply, 'whether it's God or the de'il 
has brocht us thegether. Nae time like the noo, sir, for 
if ye 're Graham o' Killearn, I'm Rob Roy MacGregor.' 
Graham did not stand on the order of his going, but made 
his exit by leaps and bounds until three long miles were 
put between him and ' that devil of a MacGregor.' 

On one occasion Graham had called the tenants of a 
certain district to meet at a small house, according to 
custom, to pay their rent. Rob Rob, with a single 
attendant, whom he called 'the Bailie,' reached the 
house after dark, and looking through the window, saw 
Killearn with a bag of money in his hand and heard him 
say he would cheerfully give it all for Rob Roy's head. 
Rob instantly gave orders in a loud voice to place two 

186 



ROB ROY 

men at each window, two at each corner and four at 
each of the doors, as if he had twenty men. He and his 
attendant then walked boldly in, each with broadsword 
in his right hand and a pistol in his left, and a goodly 
display of dirks and pistols in their belts. He then coolly 
ordered Killearn to put the money on the table and 
count it, and to draw a proper receipt showing that he, 
Rob Roy, had received the money from the Duke of 
Montrose on account. Then, finding that some of the 
tenants had not been given receipts for their rent, he 
caused these to be drawn so that no poor man should 
suffer, after which he ordered supper for all present, for 
which he paid. When they had eaten their meal and 
drunk together for several hours, he called upon 'the 
Bailie ' to produce his dirk and take the solemn oath of 
the factor that he would not move nor direct any one 
else to move out of the house for at least one hour. 
Pointing to the dirk to signify what the agent might 
expect if he broke his oath, Rob calmly walked away 
with the bag of money, which he considered rightfully 
his own, and was soon beyond pursuit. On another 
occasion MacGregor not only took possession of the 
rents which this same gentleman had collected, but also 
carried him away to a small island in the west end of 
Loch Katrine, where, after entertaining him five or six 
days, he dismissed his guest (or prisoner), returning all 
the books and papers, but taking good care to keep the 
cash. 

The escape of Rob Roy from the Duke of Montrose 
was based upon an actual occurrence. He was surprised 
by Montrose and taken prisoner in the Braes of Bal- 
quhidder. He was then mounted behind a soldier named 

187 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

James Stewart and secured by a horse-girth. In crossing 
a stream, probably the Forth at the Fords of Frew, Mac- 
Gregor induced Stewart to give him a chance ' for auld 
acquaintance' sake.' Stewart, moved by compassion or 
possibly fear, slipped the girth-buckle and Rob, drop- 
ping off the horse, dived, swam below the surface, and 
finally escaped. 

The novelist's acquaintance with the country of Rob 
Roy began in his sixteenth year, when with a military 
escort of a sergeant and six men, he first entered the 
Highlands. He was then a lawyer's clerk, and his object 
was to obtain possession of a certain small farm in the 
Braes of Balquhidder, known as Invernenty, to secure 
some debts due from the owner, Stewart of Appin. The 
farm had been a part of the property claimed by Rob 
Roy, and in the late years of the cateran's life there had 
been a great dispute over it with the Stewarts. The 
quarrel was finally adjusted and a family of MacLarens 
took possession as tenants of Stewart. After the death 
of Rob Roy, his son, Robin Oig, probably instigated by 
his mother, declared that if he could get possession of a 
certain gun of his father's, he would shoot MacLaren. 
He kept his word, using the weapon to which I have 
referred at the beginning of this chapter. The descend- 
ants of MacLaren remained on the farm and refused to 
leave. So long as they were there, the property could 
not be sold. It chanced that one of Scott's earliest legal 
undertakings was to secure the eviction of these unde- 
sirable tenants. When he arrived the house was empty, 
the MacLarens not caring to make any serious opposi- 
tion. 

The Kirk of Balquhidder, where Rob Roy made his 



ROB ROY 

settlement with the Stewarts, stands at the foot of Loch 
Voil, a few miles off the main road from Callander to 
Lochearnhead. It is a small ivy-covered chapel, stand- 
ing beneath the shadow of two large trees. In front is 
an iron railing, of recent construction, enclosing the 
graves of Rob Roy, his wife, Helen MacGregor, whose 
real name was Mary, and two of his sons. He died a 
natural death in 1734, at an age which has been vari- 
ously stated as between seventy and eighty years. 

The first appearance of Rob Roy in the novel is when 
under the name of Campbell (his mother's name, which 
he assumed, probably for prudential reasons), he makes 
the acquaintance of Mr. Frank Osbaldistone at the Black 
Bear of Darlington. Frank, it will be remembered, is on 
the way to his uncle's estate in Northumberland. There 
is little by which Osbaldistone Hall can be identified, but 
if geographical considerations count for anything, it is 
not improbable that Scott may have had in mind Chil- 
lingham Castle, the seat of the Earl of Tankerville. This 
is one of the places to which he refers in a letter written 
in the summer of 179 1, as 'within the compass of a fore- 
noon's ride/ from the farm in the Cheviot Hills, south- 
west of Wooler, where he was then staying. During that 
vacation excursion he became very familiar with all the 
surrounding country, an experience which doubtless had 
something to do with choosing Northumberland as the 
scene of an important part of the novel. Chillingham 
Castle is a fine type of the old baronial residence. It was 
designed by Inigo Jones, the famous architect of the 
seventeenth century, though portions of the building 
are still preserved which were built as early as the thir- 
teenth century. It stands in a magnificent park of fif- 

189 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

teen hundred acres, about two thirds of which is set 
apart for the accommodation of deer and wild cattle. 
The latter, almost the only descendants of the herds of 
savage wild cattle which once roamed the Caledonian 
forests, are famous throughout England and Scotland. 
Sir Walter refers to them in the ' Bride of Lammermoor ' 
and again in a note to ' Castle Dangerous.' The present 
castle is a large square structure enclosing the walls of 
the older building. Entering the inner court, which is 
paved with stone, we came to what was once the front 
of the ancient structure, looking something like 'the 
inside of a convent or of one of the older and less splen- 
did colleges of Oxford,' to quote from the description of 
Osbaldistone Hall. We were shown a large banqueting- 
room, now used as a library, which extends across the 
entire width of the building. Its walls were decorated, 
after the fashion of Osbaldistone, with many trophies of 
the chase, such as the heads of deer, elk, buffalo, and 
other animals, all shot by the present earl. But in this 
splendid apartment with its luxurious furnishings, there 
was little else to suggest the dingy old hall, with its 
stone floor and massive range of oaken tables, where 
the bluff old Sir Hildebrand and ' the happy compound 
of sot, gamekeeper, bully, horse-jockey, and fool,' which, 
with the addition of a highly educated villain, consti- 
tuted his family, daily consumed huge quantities of 
meat and 'cups, flagons, bottles, yea, barrels of liquor.' 

Frank Osbaldistone had nearly reached the entrance 
to his uncle's house when he met the beautiful Diana 
Vernon. Miss Cranstoun, afterwards the Countess of 
Purgstall, one of Scott's early friends in the social circles 
of Edinburgh, was thought by many to be the original 

190 



ROB ROY 

of Diana, — a belief which she herself shared, chiefly 
because she was an expert horsewoman. Others have 
said that Scott's first love was the real Diana. But Miss 
Vernon is totally unlike either Margaret of Branksome 
or Matilda of Rokeby, both of whom were, to some 
extent, portraits of Miss Williamina Stuart. Moreover, 
in the unexpected meeting of a charming young woman 
on horseback, her long black hair streaming in the 
breeze, her animated face glowing with the exercise, 
and her costume attractively arranged in the most 
striking fashion, there is a strong suggestion of the cir- 
cumstances to which I have previously referred, 1 under 
which the poet first met the future Lady Scott. 

The next day after our visit to Chillingham we fol- 
lowed the footsteps of Frank Osbaldistone to Glasgow, 
where we soon found the cathedral to which Frank was 
conducted by Andrew Fairservice. It well justifies the 
old gardener's encomium: 'Ah! it's a brave kirk — 
none o' yere whigmaleeries and curliewurlies and open 
steek hems about it! — a' solid, weel- jointed mason- 
wark, that will stand as lang as the warld, keep hands 
and gunpowther aff it.' A part of the present building 
was erected in 1175. It has been the scene of some 
important events in Scottish history. At Christmas of 
1301, Edward I of England, on his campaign against 
Scotland, made offerings at the high altar. Five years 
later, Robert Bruce stood before the same altar and was 
there absolved for the murder of his rival, the Red 
Comyn, at Dumfries. 

The cathedral is supported by sixty-five pillars, some 
of them eighteen feet in circumference. The effect of 
1 Chapter i, page 17. 
191 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

these huge masses is to throw the crypt into almost total 
darkness except in the parts near the narrow stained- 
glass windows. To make my photograph I set up the 
camera, opened the shutter, and left a workman to keep 
watch while I went to luncheon. Returning in an hour 
I shut off the exposure and realized later that two hours 
would have been better. 

In this dark crypt it was formerly the custom to hold 
services. While standing in front of one of the huge pil- 
lars, listening to the sermon, Frank Osbaldistone heard 
the mysterious voice of Rob Roy, warning him that his 
life was in danger. Turning quickly he could see no one. 
I could never understand this scene until I saw the 
crypt. The large size of the pillars and the dense shad- 
ows which they cast would make it easy for one to dis- 
appear in the darkness as Rob Roy was supposed to do. 

On High Street, Glasgow, we found an old tower, 
which was a part of the Tolbooth, where Rob Roy had 
his curious interview with Bailie Nicol Jarvie. The old 
Salt Market has changed greatly since the days of the 
good Bailie and his father, the deacon, and it is no 
longer necessary at night to be escorted along the city 
streets by a young maidservant with a lantern. 

Rob Roy's parting injunction to Frank was 'forget 
not the clachan of Aberfoyle.' We therefore made it our 
business to find that interesting spot, combining it, as 
did Scott, with our investigation of the scenery of ' The 
Lady of the Lake.' The portion of the Scottish High- 
lands generally included in the so-called Rob Roy coun- 
try comprises all that part of central Perthshire from 
Loch Ard and the river Forth on the south to Strath 
Fillan and Glen Dochart on the north, and from Loch 

192 



ROB ROY 

Lubnaig on the east to Loch Lomond on the west. This 
region, so easily accessible to us by means of carriages 
and automobiles, was in the time of Rob Roy not only 
difficult to approach, but exceedingly dangerous. The 
only highways of travel were narrow defiles through the 
mountains, easy enough, perhaps, for the experienced 
and hardy clansman, who knew every twist and turn of 
the paths, but as impassable to the unguided Lowlander 
or ' Sassenach ' as the tablelands of Tibet. 

Frank Osbaldistone and Bailie Nicol Jarvie, guided 
by the officious and rascally, but always laughable, 
Andrew Fairservice, are supposed to enter the hamlet 
of Aberfoyle by crossing an old stone bridge over the 
Forth. It is the bridge which Scott doubtless crossed 
when he visited the place, and is still standing, but it 
had not been built in the time of Rob Roy. That, how- 
ever, was one of those details which never interested Sir 
Walter to any great extent. 

We approached from the opposite direction, driving 
over the hills from the Trossachs and pausing just above 
the village to view the splendid valley to the westward, 
the termination of which was the mountain peak of Ben 
Lomond. Arriving at Aberfoyle, we were fortunately 
spared the necessity of stopping at an inn such as the 
novelist describes, where the worthy Bailie valiantly 
defended himself against a too aggressive Highlander, 
by wielding a red-hot poker so vigorously as to burn a 
hole in his opponent's plaid. But the enterprising land- 
lord of the modern hotel near the bridge capitalizes the 
incident by exhibiting the identical poker, which he has 
attached to the limb of a tree, thereby recalling Scott's 
story of the keeper of a museum who showed the very 

193 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

sword with which Balaam was about to kill his ass. A 
visitor interrupted him with the remark that Balaam 
did not possess a sword; he only wished for one. 'True, 
sir,' was the ready reply, 'but this is the very sword he 
wished for.' 

There are two groups of old cottages in Aberfoyle, 
corresponding closely with those described in the novel. 

The miserable little bourocks (or heap of rocks) as the 
Bailie termed them, of which about a dozen formed the 
village called the clachan of Aberfoyle, were composed of 
loose stones, cemented by clay instead of mortar, and 
thatched by tufts, laid rudely upon rafters formed of native 
and unhewn birches and oaks from the woods around. The 
roofs approached the ground so nearly, that Andrew Fair- 
service observed, we might have ridden over the village the 
night before, and never found out we were near it, unless our 
horses' feet had 'gane through the riggin'.' 

About half a mile from the bridge, which is the exact 
distance referred to in the novel, we found the largest 
of these clachans, which bore a very striking resem- 
blance to the one described by Scott, even to the 
squalor of its surroundings, for it is still inhabited at one 
end, though the other is in ruins. But by way of com- 
pensation, the miserable hovel, with the high bleak hills 
in the background, made a strikingly picturesque view, 
not differing greatly from that which met the eyes of 
Rob Roy himself, whenever his 'business' brought him 
to that locality. 

Following the road to the westward, we came to some 
cliffs on the north shore of Loch Ard, near the foot of 
the lake, which are pointed out as the place where Bailie 
Nicol Jarvie found himself suspended by the coat-tails 

194 



ROB ROY 

from the projecting branches of a thorn-tree, dangling 
in mid-air 'not unlike the sign of the Golden Fleece 
over the door of a mercer in the Trongate of his native 
city.' 

The beauty of the lake as it appears from this road, 
and particularly from the point where Ben Lomond 
looms high in the distance, fully justifies the novelist's 
enthusiasm. The 'huge grey rocks and shaggy banks' 
are neither so high nor so wild as they are described, 
nor did we find an elevation from which Helen Mac- 
Gregor might have pitched the miserable Morris head- 
long into the lake. Indeed, had we been able to look 
backward through the mists of two centuries and see 
the famous Helen herself, we should doubtless have dis- 
covered that she, too, was much less ' wild ' than she has 
been painted. Scott represents her as a virago, fiercely 
inspiring her husband and sons to deeds of bloody ven- 
geance. The real name of Rob Roy's wife was Mary. 
Mr. A. H. Miller, in his 'History of Rob Roy,' thinks 
she has been sadly misrepresented. 'Mary MacGregor,' 
says he, 'was of a gentle and amiable disposition, one 
who never meddled in the political schemes of her 
husband, and whose virtues were of the domestic order.' 

Scott's fondness for the little waterfall of Lediard, 
north of Loch Ard, to which I have already referred in 
connection with 'Waverley,' led him to introduce it 
again in 'Rob Roy.' It was the place chosen by Rob's 
wife and followers as 'a scene well calculated to impress 
strangers with some feelings of awe,' and here Helen 
MacGregor presented to Frank Osbaldistone the ring of 
Diana Vernon as the love-token of one from whom he 
believed himself separated forever. 

i9S 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

The two sections of the Rob Roy country which the 
cateran most frequented, were the eastern shores of 
Loch Lomond and the valley where Loch Voil nestles 
calmly among the hills, known as the Braes of Bal- 
quhidder. After Rob was driven away from Craig- 
royston, on the margin of Loch Lomond, he made his 
headquarters for many years at Fort Inversnaid, on the 
high land, about two miles east of the lake. 

The story of how Rob Roy took possession of this 
place stamps him as a modern Ulysses as well as a Robin 
Hood. The Government authorized the building of the 
fort on Rob's own land, as a means of guarding the dis- 
trict from his depredations. The crafty cateran, learn- 
ing from some of his numerous spies all about the plans 
well in advance, took good care to see that none of his 
clansmen interfered in the least, so that all the material 
for the fort, including ample supplies, guns, and ammu- 
nition, were brought up without molestation. The con- 
tractor, happy in the thought that the peaceful state of 
the country had enabled him to complete his task 
promptly, dismissed most of his men and prepared to 
turn the property over to the Duke of Montrose. One 
evening, in the midst of a heavy snowstorm, a knocking 
was heard at the gate. In response to inquiry, a voice 
said that a poor pedlar had lost his way in the snow. 
The gate was opened, and Rob Roy at the head of a 
strong force, rushed in and took possession. The fort 
made an excellent vantage-ground from which he har- 
ried his enemies for many years. 

Just below the fort, the little river which forms the 
outlet of Loch Arklet joins the Snaid, and finally tum- 
bles over the cliff in a beautiful little cascade, known as 

196 



ROB ROY 

Inversnaid Falls. About two miles to the north, well 
hidden among the rocks, is a cave which Rob Roy was 
sometimes compelled to use as a hiding-place. It was 
visited by Walter Scott and introduced in the story of 
'Waverley' as the cave of Donald Bean Lean, but he 
refrained from mentioning it in 'Rob Roy.' 

Scott never felt quite satisfied with this novel, 
although he did remark in a letter to John Richardson, 
'I really think I may so far do some good by giving 
striking and, to the best of my information and abilities, 
correct likenesses of characters long since passed away.' 
As a presentation of the real character of one of the 
most picturesque and interesting of all Highlanders, as 
well as a superb word-painting of the conditions under 
which men lived in the country and the time of Rob 
Roy, the novel possesses a genuine value. Scott's dis- 
content with it arose from the hard conditions under 
which it was written. In a letter to Daniel Terry, dated 
March 29, 1817, he says, referring to it, 'I have made 
some progress in ye ken what, but not to my satisfac- 
tion; it smells of the cramp, and I must get it into bet- 
ter order before sending it to you.' After the book was 
published, he used the same expression in a letter to 
Morritt. Lady Louisa Stuart, one of Scott's most valued 
friends, who wrote to him with perfect freedom, thought 
the end of the story indicated that the author was ' tired, 
and wanted to get rid of his personages as fast as he 
could, knocking them on the head without mercy.' 
There is certainly some justification in this when we 
consider that the old Baronet and five of his worthless 
sons are disposed of within three or four pages, while the 
last and worst of the lot, the traitorous Rashleigh, is put 

197 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

out of the way two chapters later. On the other hand, 
the Squire and his family were always treated collect- 
ively, and as they were in the way it was just as well to 
get rid of them by wholesale. Of course, no good could 
come from letting the villain live. If this is a defect, or 
if there are any other faults in the novel, they are all 
redeemed by the happy picture of Bailie Nicol Jarvie, 
one of the most original as well as delightful of all the 
company of actors in the Waverley Novels, — ' a carefu' 
man, as is weel kend, and industrious as the hale town 
can testify; and I can win my crowns, and keep my 
crowns, and count my crowns wi' ony body in the Saut- 
Market, or it may be in the Gallowgate. And I 'm a 
prudent man, as my father the deacon was before me.' 
The poor bailie never could (and neither can the reader) 
forget how he must have looked when he hung head 
down from the thorn tree in the Pass of Aberfoyle: 
'And abune a', though I am a decent, sponsible man, 
when I am on my right end, I canna but think I maun 
hae made a queer figure without my hat and my peri- 
wig, hinging by the middle like bawdrons, or a cloak 
flung over a cloak-pin. Bailie Graham wad hae an unco 
hair in my neck and he got that tale by the end.' 

Charles Mackay, the famous actor, made the hit of 
his career in his rendition of Bailie Nicol Jarvie, and the 
dramatization of the novel enjoyed a remarkable popu- 
larity for many years. 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN 

'Dis-is-de-heart-of-Midlothian-Jeanie-Deans-walked-t'- 
Lunnon-t'-save-her-sister-f r'm-hangin ! ' This sentence, 
uttered rapidly in a monotone, as though it were all a 
single word, long-drawn-out, startled us as we were 
standing in Parliament Square, Edinburgh, looking up 
at the stately crown which forms the distinguishing 
mark of the old Cathedral of St. Giles. Our eyes quickly 
dropped, to meet the wistful, upturned face of a small 
urchin, very ragged and very dirty. 'What is that you 
say? ' said I, looking down into his expectant eyes. ' Dis- 
is-de-heart-of-Midlothian-Jeanie-Deans-walked-to-Lun- 
non, sir, ' was the reply, in the same quick accents, run- 
ning the words all together. 'Why did she do that?' I 
asked, hoping to draw him out. ' To save her sister from 
hangin', sir, ' was the ready reply. ' But who was Jeanie 
Deans and how did she save her sister? ' To this double 
inquiry the boy only shook his head. 'Where did you 
hear that story? ' Another shake. ' Did you ever hear of 
Sir Walter Scott? ' Another slow movement of a down- 
cast head indicated that the little lad was hopelessly out 
of his depth, so I gave him his penny and let him go. He 
had evidently learned his lesson by heart from some one 
whom instinct had taught that this reference to one of 
the most popular novels of Edinburgh's most famous 
citizen would be likely to prove the readiest means of 
interesting the casual tourist and thereby extracting an 

199 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

honest penny. All the other objects of interest, — the 
fine old Cathedral, the Parliament House, the Market 
Cross, the grave of John Knox — were as nothing com- 
pared to the figure of a heart, outlined in the pavement, 
designed to mark the site of the old Tolbooth, but more 
strongly reminding the visitor, not of an ancient prison, 
but of a great novel, and impressing him with the feeling 
that, wherever one may go in Edinburgh, the spirit of Sir 
Walter Scott seems to permeate the very atmosphere. 

The square in which we were standing was for cen- 
turies the civic centre of Edinburgh. The southwest 
corner is occupied by the House of Parliament, where 
the Scottish Parliaments met in a room, a hundred and 
twenty-two feet long and forty-nine feet wide, with an 
arched oaken roof. This large hall is now adorned with 
numerous portraits and statues of eminent judges, and 
its floor, when the courts are in session, is filled with a 
throng of advocates, their wigs and gowns suggesting 
something of the ceremonials of olden times. Since the 
union of England and Scotland under the name of Great 
Britain, in 1707, and the consequent dissolution of the 
Scottish Parliament, the building has been used by the 
Court of Session. In the rooms of the First Division, 
on the left of the lobby, Sir Walter Scott, as one of the 
Principal Clerks, performed his official duties for twenty- 
five years. His attendance averaged from four to six 
hours daily during the sessions of the court, which usu- 
ally occupied two months in the late spring and early 
summer, and four in the winter. His letter of resigna- 
tion, in the last year but one of his life, is one of the 
valued treasures of the Advocates' Library. 

In the first half of the eighteenth century, the period 

200 



THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN 

of ' The Heart of Midlothian,' Parliament Close, as it was 
then called, did not present the clean, open appearance 
of to-day. Almost the entire space between St. Giles on 
the east and the County Hall on the west was occupied 
by the Tolbooth, leaving only a narrow and partly cov- 
ered passage at the northwest corner of the square. The 
prison projected into the middle of High Street, seeming 
to form 'the termination of a huge pile of buildings 
called the Luckenbooths,' which had been 'jammed 
into the midst of the principal street,' and little booths 
or shops were plastered against the buttresses of the 
old Gothic cathedral. The headquarters of the 'City 
Guard' were in 'a long, low, ugly building, which to a 
fanciful imagination might have suggested the idea of 
a long black snail crawling up the middle of the High 
Street and deforming its beautiful esplanade.' In this 
way, what was intended to be and is now a broad street 
was at that time so encumbered as to be converted into 
a series of narrow, crooked lanes, which were kept in 
anything but tidy condition. South of High Street the 
Cowgate was reached by descending the steep incline 
through various narrow lanes, and the two parallel 
thoroughfares were connected, a little to the east, by a 
crooked but famous street, called West Bow. At the 
foot of the latter was a wide, open space known as the 
Grassmarket, where the public executions took place. 
These were the streets through which the rioters of the 
Porteous Mob made their way in the exciting days of 
September, 1736. 

The Tolbooth, considered two centuries ago to be one 
of the largest and most sombre buildings in the kingdom, 
was built by the citizens of Edinburgh in 1561, origi- 

201 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

nally for a Town Hall, but later devoted to the use of 
Parliament and the courts of justice. With the comple- 
tion of the Parliament House in 1640, its original usage 
ceased, and from that time until its demolition in 18 17, 
it was devoted exclusively to the imprisonment of debt- 
ors and criminals. No distinction was made between the 
lowest of the criminal classes and the poor persons whose 
only offence was the inability to pay some small debt. 
The latter were shut up for months in cells too loath- 
some for the most vicious of criminals. There were no 
areas for exercise nor any ways of affording the captives 
a breath of fresh air. The narrow windows were half- 
blocked to the light by massive bars of iron. 

The exterior was not less horrible, for on its highest 
pinnacle were displayed the heads of prisoners of state 
who had been executed, and it was seldom lacking in 
such tokens. The Regent Morton, accused of the murder 
of Darnley; the Duke of Montrose, and later his great 
enemy, the Duke of Argyle, were among the most dis- 
tinguished of these victims ; but there were many others. 

The Church of St. Giles almost touched elbows, so to 
speak, with the prison. The central portion was set apart 
for religious services under the name of the 'Old Church,' 
the worshippers of those days having a strong aversion 
to the use of the name of a saint. They seemed to have 
no objection to attaching to their sacred edifice the 
designation of the temporary abode of sinners, for the 
southwest quarter was called the 'Tolbooth Church,' 
from its proximity to the prison. On the morning of the 
nth of April, 1736, according to the account of Robert 
Chambers, Wilson and Robertson were conducted to 
the Tolbooth Church, to listen to their last sermon, their 

202 



THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN 

execution having been planned for the following Wed- 
nesday. Very much as described in the novel, except 
that the incident took place almost instantly after they 
had seated themselves in the pew, instead of after the 
sermon as Scott says, Wilson seized three of the guards 
and shouted to Robertson to run. The latter tripped up 
the fourth soldier and quickly escaped, aided by the 
sympathetic church-goers, who contrived to block up 
the passages so that pursuit was impossible. Three days 
later, Wilson was executed in the Grassmarket. The 
sympathy of all Edinburgh was with him, for several 
reasons. First, his crime was only the robbery of a 
revenue officer, in reprisal for the seizure of his own 
goods on a charge of smuggling. In those days (and 
even now, it may be feared) the crime of cheating the 
Government out of its revenues was not considered an 
enormous one. If a poor smuggler happened to be 
caught, there was no reason why he should n't 'get 
even ' with the officers if he had a good chance. At least, 
so Wilson argued, and many sympathized with his view. 
Second, the Scots were not yet entirely reconciled to 
the union, and the exhibition of too much authority at 
London was likely to be resented. Third, Wilson had 
acted the part of a generous friend and courageous man 
in sacrificing his own chances to secure the escape of 
Robertson. 

Some stones were thrown at the captain of the City 
Guard, John Porteous, and that officer, beside himself 
with rage, snatched a gun from a soldier and, setting the 
example himself, commanded his party to fire. The re- 
sult was the loss of six lives and the wounding of eleven 
persons, many of the victims being innocent spectators 

203 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

who were watching the affair from neighbouring win- 
dows. For this offence Porteous was tried and convicted, 
his execution being set for the 8th of September. Before 
the prisoner could be executed, a pardon reached Edin- 
burgh, signed by Queen Caroline, acting as Regent. 
Robert Chambers says that it came on the 2d of Sep- 
tember, giving the mob five days for preparation instead 
of a single afternoon, as described by Scott. It is a mat- 
ter of history that the 'mob' acted with remarkable 
moderation, harming no one except their intended vic- 
tim. Ladies of the upper classes, travelling in their 
chairs to meet evening engagements, were quietly turned 
back. The shopkeeper in the West Bow, whose place 
was broken into for a coil of rope, found himself reim- 
bursed with a guinea. The town guard was disarmed 
and the city gates closed without confusion, showing 
that cool heads were in the lead. The jail was stormed 
and, as the door would not yield, it was set on fire. 
When this finally became effective, the fire was extin- 
guished. All the prisoners were set free except Porteous, 
who was taken to the Grassmarket and hanged on a 
post near the scene of his own crime. 

The event caused great excitement, not only in Edin- 
burgh, but in London. The House of Lords proposed a 
severe punishment, including the imprisonment of the 
Lord Provost, but finally compromised with a fine upon 
the city of £2000 for the benefit of Porteous's widow, 
thus throwing the punishment upon those who had 
nothing to do with the affair and could not have pre- 
vented it. 

When the discreditable old Tolbooth was finally 
demolished, Scott was presented with the door and its 

204 



THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN 

frame, which are now built into the outer walls of the 
mansion at Abbotsford and the keys of the prison are 
among the treasures of his museum. In 1816, he wrote 
to Terry, ' I expect to get some decorations from the old 
Tolbooth of Edinburgh, particularly the copestones of 
the doorway, or lintels, as we call them, and a niche 
or two — one very handsome, indeed! Better a niche 
from the Tolbooth than a niche in it, to which such 
building operations are apt to bring the projectors!' 

The first part of the novel is a skilful blending of the 
history of the Porteous Mob, with the true story of an 
unfortunate girl and her noble sister, who lived in 
another part of Scotland. The author represents Effie 
Deans as having been incarcerated in the old Tolbooth 
and places her trial in one of the buildings of Parliament 
Close. The real Effie was imprisoned in the jail at Dum- 
fries and her trial occurred in an upper room of a curious 
old building of that city, known as the Mid-Steeple, 
a structure, now over two centuries old, which stands in 
the middle of the High Street and gives a picturesque 
effect to that thoroughfare. On the south front, above 
a stairway which ascends across the face of the building, 
is a sculptured figure of St. Michael treading on a ser- 
pent, the arms of the burgh, and above this are the 
royal arms of Scotland, also carved in stone. The space 
in front is given a pleasant bit of colour by the display 
of flowers and vegetables, here offered for sale. 

The story of Helen Walker, the original of Jeanie 
Deans, is well remembered in Dumfries. A stone or two 
may still be discovered, by those who care to search for 
the remnant of her little cottage, near the banks of the 
river Cluden. She lived to be seventy or eighty years 

205 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

old, supporting herself by working stocking-feet and 
raising chickens, besides occasionally teaching a few chil- 
dren to read. In early life she had been left an orphan, 
charged with the support of a younger sister, named 
Isabella, or 'Tibby,' to whom she devoted herself with 
many evidences of genuine affection. It was a great 
shock to her, therefore, when she learned that the young 
girl had been accused of child-murder and that she her- 
self would be called upon as the principal witness against 
her. Under the law, as her counsel explained, if she 
could testify that her sister had made the slightest pre- 
paration or had even confided to her an intimation on 
the subject, such a declaration would save her sister's 
life. The temptation to tell a plausible lie, which no one 
could dispute, was undeniably strong. But Helen was a 
woman of finer mould, and not even the purest sisterly 
love could induce her to violate her conscience. She 
swore to the truth and Isabella was condemned. As she 
left the court, the latter was heard to exclaim, 'Oh, 
Nelly! ye've been the cause of my death!' 

The same moral courage which gave resolution to 
Helen Walker to stand for the truth, now impelled her 
to a remarkable exercise of the power of an indomitable 
will. The difficulties seemed insurmountable. There was 
no hope except in the royal pardon. There was no one 
to intercede with the King and London was many miles 
away. But Helen did not waste a moment. A petition 
was hastily drawn, setting forth the facts in the case, and 
on the very night of the conviction, the dauntless Scotch 
lassie set out on foot for London, clad in her simple 
country dress and tartan plaid, without letters of intro- 
duction or recommendation, with little money in her 

206 



THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN 

purse, and scarcely a chance of success except a sublime 
faith in Providence and reliance upon her own stout 
heart. 

There was one nobleman in London to whom the 
heart of any of his Scotch countrymen would instinc- 
tively turn in such an emergency. This was John, Duke 
of Argyle, who had stoutly resisted the efforts to inflict 
an undeserved punishment on the people of Edinburgh 
for their part in the Porteous affair. To him Helen 
Walker presented herself, after watching three days at 
his door, just as he was about to enter his carriage. Her 
unpretentious dress, her honest face, and the pathos of 
her story won the heart of the generous nobleman, who 
procured the pardon and forwarded it to Dumfries. 
Helen returned on foot as she had come, and had 
the satisfaction of witnessing the release of her sister. 
Isabella married the man who had wronged her and 
lived many years, always acknowledging in the most 
affectionate terms the high nobility of her sister's 
character. 

Helen died in poverty and was buried in the pictur- 
esque churchyard of Kirkpatrick Irongray, northwest of 
Dumfries, where her grave might have been forgotten 
but for the generosity of Sir Walter and the interest of 
Mrs. Goldie, who told him the story. This good lady 
requested the novelist to write an inscription, saying 
that if he would do so, she would be able to raise the ne- 
cessary funds for a monument. Scott, however, insisted 
upon supplying both the inscription and the stone. We 
made it our first care on the afternoon of our arrival 
in Dumfries to drive to the old Kirk where, in spite of 
the inconvenience of an unexpected shower, we photo- 

207 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

graphed the memorial and afterwards stood under an 
umbrella copying the following inscription: — 

This Stone was erected 

By the author of Waverley 

To the memory 

of 

HELEN WALKER 

Who died in the year of God, 1791. 

This humble individual 

Practised in real life 

The virtues 

With which fiction has invested 

The imaginary character of 

JEANIE DEANS 

Refusing the slightest departure 

From veracity 

Even to save the life of a sister, 

She nevertheless shewed her 

Kindness and fortitude 

In rescuing her 

From the severity of the law, 

At the Expense of personal exertions. 

Which the times rendered as difficult 

As the motive was laudable. 



Respect the grave of poverty 

When combined with love of truth 

And dear affection. 

One day during our stay in Edinburgh we hired a con- 
veyance to take us to the suburban scenes of 'The Heart 
of Midlothian.' Our driver was recommended as 'one 

208 



THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN 

of the best guides in Edinburgh/ and so he proved to be. 
In spite of orders to drive direct to the King's Park, he 
insisted upon going by way of High Street and the 
Canongate, when, every few rods it seemed, he would 
bring his horse to a walk, then turn in his seat until he 
faced us and point with his long whip to some window 
* where the famous Adam Smith lived' or 'where Dugald 
Stewart had his rooms.' Perhaps he was only following 
the example of Sir Walter, of whom Lockhart said, 'No 
funeral hearse crept more leisurely than did his landau 
up the Canongate; and not a queer tottering gable but 
recalled to him some long-buried memory of splendour 
or bloodshed, which, by a few words, he set before his 
hearers in the reality of life.' All of this was interesting 
enough, or would have been, had I not wished to reach 
my objective point before sundown, but Jehu was like 
the burro I once rode in the Garden of the Gods in Col- 
orado, which beast responded to the spur by two con- 
vulsive steps, then settled down to his previous pace, 
which neither coaxing nor threatening, caressing nor 
spurring, soft words nor sharp ones, would induce him 
to change for the space of more than a minute at a time. 
So with our 'best guide.' I finally concluded to let him 
have his own way, as I had been obliged to do with his 
obstinate relative, the burro, and so finally got through 
the Canongate after listening to a rehearsal of the entire 
catalogue of Edinburgh worthies for several centuries. 
When the King's Park was reached, after passing Holy- 
rood Palace, the guide found himself 'out of bounds' 
and kindly permitted me to direct the further proceed- 
ings. 
Here the city seems to come to a sudden end, and look- 
209 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

ing toward the southwest we saw only a mass of steep 
cliffs backed by a rugged mountain. This was a favor- 
ite resort with Sir Walter, when a boy. In later years, 
the Radical Road, which winds around the edge of the 
Salisbury Crags in a broad pathway, was laid out at his 
suggestion, to give employment to idle men. 

In writing 'The Heart of Midlothian,' Scott was there- 
fore more at home than with any other of his novels. 
Muschat's Cairn and St. Anthony's Chapel, where 
Jeanie had her midnight interview with the betrayer of 
her sister, were familiar sights of the author's boyhood. 
On a dark night they would be lonely enough even now. 

Near the park gate we passed some boulders known as 
Muschat's Cairn, but as they were carefully enclosed 
and surrounded by a well-kept plot of grass, they gave 
no suggestion of the weird and desecrated ground where 
evil spirits had power to make themselves visible to 
human eyes. The original cairn was made by passing 
travellers, each throwing a stone upon the spot, to 
express his detestation of the horrible murder com- 
mitted in 1720 by Nicol Muchet or Muschat, who killed 
his wife under circumstances of great cruelty. In the 
ordinary course of improvements, the cairn was swept 
away, but the novel created a new interest in its story, 
which led to its restoration. 

St. Anthony's Chapel, on the rugged hillside overlook- 
ing St. Margaret's Loch, gives more of the impression 
of Scott's tale. The scene on any moonlight night even 
now would be the same as it was on that night when 
Jeanie met George Robertson at the cairn and was fol- 
lowed by RatclifTe and Sharpitlaw, guided by Madge 
Wildfire. The ruined chapel, where the jailer and the 

210 



THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN 

lawyer succeeded only in capturing each other instead 
of the fugitive, is still as lonely and difficult of access 
as it was then, the only difference being that some of the 
walls have fallen. We drove as near to the base of the 
hill as it was possible to go. I then left the carriage and 
began the ascent, stopping a moment at St. Anthony's 
Well, where Madge Wildfire wanted to meet the ghost 
of the murdered Ailie Muschat to wash the blood out 
of her clothes 'by the beams of the bonny Lady Moon.' 
Arriving at the chapel after a hard climb, I was studying 
the composition of a picture when I was accosted by a 
policeman, who had toiled after me all the way up that 
steep incline. He informed me that I was welcome to 
photograph the ruins, but I must n't take any group 
pictures. As there was nobody in sight but the police- 
man and myself, and as I did not wish to make a 'group ' 
of him, I wondered why he had taken so much trouble. 
Perhaps he felt the proud satisfaction of the hero, who, 
in the language of an admiring rustic friend, 'seen his 
duty and done it noble.' 

The chapel of St. Anthony, of which now only a frag- 
ment remains, was once a Gothic structure, with a tower 
forty feet high, in which a light was kept for the guid- 
ance of mariners. A hermitage, of which scarcely a trace 
remains, was partly formed of one of the sheltering 
crags near by. The lofty site, commanding an exten- 
sive prospect of sea and sky was supposed to be favour- 
able for pious meditations. The sight of the palace 
below was expected to make an impression in the 
minds of the monks of the 'striking contrast between 
the court, so frequently assaulted by an unprincipled 
rabble, and their own tranquil situation in which they 

211 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

were gladly preparing for the regions of everlasting 
repose.' Although overlooking a populous city, the resi- 
dents of the hermitage had all the 'advantages' of life in 
a wilderness, as secluded and peaceful as a Highland 
desert. 

On the opposite side of the intervening valley we 
visited St. Leonard's Crags at the southwest edge of the 
King's Park. A neat cottage, with a little garden on 
the slope below, passes as the house of David Deans. 
Whether Scott had in mind this particular building is 
immaterial. It is in the exact locality described in the 
novel, and we thought it pleasant to stand on the side of 
the hill overlooking the same extensive sheep pasture, 
and the same crags and mountain beyond, that met the 
eyes of Jeanie Deans when she stood at the cottage door 
anxiously looking along the various tracks which led to 
their dwelling, 'to see if she could descry the nymph-like 
form of her sister.' 

A house known as 'Dumbiedykes,' so called because 
in Scott's time it was used as a private school for the 
deaf and dumb, is not far distant. The novelist bor- 
rowed only the name, which he seems to have trans- 
ferred to an old farm called PerTermill, in the vicinity of 
Liberton. 

'Douce David Deans' is an original creation, the 
result of Scott's absorption of the descriptions of char- 
acter in Patrick Walker's biographical accounts of the 
Covenanters. In acknowledging his indebtedness to this 
authority, Scott says, 'It is from such tracts as these, 
written in the sense, feeling, and spirit of the sect, 
and not from the sophisticated narratives of a later 
period, that the real character of the persecuted class is 

212 



THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN 

to be gathered.' 'David' is just a touch of the same 
kind of which we have seen so much in 'Old Mortality.' 
His lecture to his daughters on the evil of dancing is 
taken from Patrick Walker's Life of Cameron: — 

Dance? — dance, said ye? I daur ye, limmers that ye are, 
to name sic' a word at my door-cheek! It's a dissolute, pro- 
fane pastime, practiced by the Israelites only at their base 
and brutal worship of the Golden Calf at Bethel, and by the 
unhappy lass who danced off the head of John the Baptist, 
upon whilk chapter I will exercise this night for your further 
instruction, since ye need it sae muckle, nothing doubting 
that she has cause to rue the day, lang or this time, that e'er 
she suld hae shook a limb on sic' an errand. Better for her to 
hae been born a cripple, and carried frae door to door, like 
auld Bessie Bowie, begging bawbees, than to be a king's 
daughter, fiddling and flinging the gate she did. . . . And 
now, if I hear ye, quean lassies, sae muckle as name dancing, 
or think there 's sic' a thing in this warld as flinging to fiddle's 
sounds and piper's springs, as sure as my father's spirit is 
with the just, ye shall be no more either charge or concern of 
mine! 

What a treat it would be to hear Douce David ex- 
press an opinion of the elaborate present-day perform- 
ances of ' Salome ' ! 

Madge Wildfire, or Murdockson, was drawn from a 
crazy woman, called Feckless Fannie, who travelled 
over Scotland and England at the head of a flock of 
sheep. They were remarkable animals, who recognized 
their names as bestowed by their mistress, and responded 
promptly to her commands. She slept in the fields in 
the midst of her flock, and one very polite old ram, 
named Charlie, always claimed the honour of assisting 
her to rise. He would push the others out of the way, 

213 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

then bend down his head, and when Madge had taken a 
firm grasp upon his large horns, he would raise his head 
and gently lift his mistress to her feet. This and numer- 
ous other stories of Feckless Fannie were furnished the 
novelist by his indefatigable friend, Joseph Train. 

The great popularity of 'The Heart of Midlothian' 
may be judged from a letter of Lady Louisa Stuart, who 
said, 'I am in a house where everybody is tearing it out 
of each other's hands and talking of nothing else,' and 
from Lockhart's testimony, that he had never seen such 
'all-engrossing enthusiasm' in Edinburgh 'on the ap- 
pearance of any other literary novelty.' Andrew Lang 
only voices the feeling of other Scotchmen when he 
declares that it is ' second to none ' of the Waverley Nov- 
els and that 'no number of formal histories can convey 
nearly so full and true a picture of Scottish life about 
1730-40 as 'The Heart of Midlothian.' 

Lockhart, as usual, sets forth the true secret of the 
author's success and does it in a single paragraph. 
'Never before,' he says, 'had he seized such really noble 
features of the national character as were canonized in 
the person of his homely heroine; no art had ever 
devised a happier running contrast than that of her 
and her sister, or interwoven a portraiture of lowly man- 
ners and simple virtues, with more graceful delineations 
of polished life or with bolder shadows of terror, guilt, 
crime, remorse, madness, and all the agony of passions. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR 

Ralph Waldo Emerson, who frequently showed his 
familiarity with the Waverley Novels, regarded 'The 
Bride of Lammermoor' as Scott's highest achievement. 
He declared that it 'almost goes back to ^Eschylus for .a 
counterpart, as a painting of Fate — leaving on every 
reader the impression of the highest and purest tragedy.' 
The dramatic close of the story is based upon a calamity 
which marred the private life of James Dalrymple, the 
first Lord Stair, a great lawyer, legal writer, and judge, 
who was the ancestor of a long line of distinguished 
advocates, judges, and public men. 

This gentleman was born in Ayrshire in 1619. He 
was carefully educated, and when a young man lectured 
in the University of Glasgow on mathematics, logic, 
ethics, and politics. At twenty-nine he began the prac- 
tice of law at Edinburgh, winning great fame in his 
profession, because of extensive legal attainments. His 
great work on 'The Institutions of the Law of Scotland' 
is still held in high esteem by Scottish lawyers, although 
the feudal law which it elucidated has become anti- 
quated. It is considered, however, that something of its 
spirit still survives. He became a judge, was appointed 
President of the Court of Session, served as a member 
of the Scottish Parliament, and took a prominent part 
in various political and diplomatic undertakings. Unfor- 
tunately incurring the enmity of the Duke of York, he 

21S 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

lost his influence at court and was deprived of office. 
Fearing prosecution for treason, he retired to Holland, 
returning, however, a year later in the suite of William 
of Orange. He lived to the age of seventy-six, his latest 
years saddened by the bitter attacks of his enemies. 
This is the man whom Scott introduces as Sir William 
Ashton, though without meaning to impute to Lord 
Stair the tricky and mean-spirited qualities of the ficti- 
tious character. 

James Dalrymple was married in 1644 to Margaret 
Ross, the heiress of a large estate in Galloway. She was 
a woman of great ability and strong character, who 
seems to have exerted a powerful influence in promoting 
her husband's prosperity and political ambition. She 
shared his fortunes, whether good or bad, for nearly 
half a century, always exerting an imperious will, which 
even he did not dare to contradict, but ever faithful 
in advancing his interests. Following her husband's 
downfall, when the number of his enemies had greatly 
increased and his life was in danger, Lady Stair 
was accused of attending conventicles and of harbouring 
' silenced preachers' in her house. Others went farther 
and accused her of witchcraft, maintaining that the 
great prosperity of her family was attributable solely to 
the lady's partnership with His Satanic Majesty. What- 
ever may have been the slanders directed against her 
good name, the Lady Stair of history was clearly the 
prototype of Lady Ashton. 

The lord and lady of real life had a daughter Janet, 
who was betrothed, without the consent of her parents, 
to Lord Rutherford. Lady Stair's will asserted itself in 
opposition, and without consideration of her daughter's 

216 



THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR 

feelings, the mother proceeded to annul the engagement, 
notifying the lover that his fiancee had retracted her 
unlawful vow. After a stormy interview, in which Lord 
Rutherford argued his case with the determined mother 
in the presence of the younger woman, the latter, who 
had feebly remained silent and motionless, at last 
obeyed with sad reluctance her mother's command and 
gave back to her lover the half of a broken coin, which 
had been the symbol of their mutual pledge. In a burst 
of passion Lord Rutherford left the room and soon after 
went abroad never to return. 

The marriage desired by Lady Stair now took place, 
the bridegroom being David Dunbar, the heir of an 
estate in Wigtownshire, the lady's native county. On the 
night of the wedding some tragic event took place which 
resulted in the death of Janet two weeks later. Either 
the bride stabbed the husband or the husband stabbed 
the bride. The family seem to have thrown a veil of 
secrecy over the whole affair and the exact truth was 
never positively known. According to one account, 
when the door of the chamber was opened, the young 
bridegroom lay upon the floor badly wounded, while the 
wife was found in a state of frenzy, screaming as the door 
opened, 'Tak' up your bonnie bridegroom.' Another 
story is that the mother, inspired by Satan, attempted 
the murder, the marriage having been contracted against 
her will, and that the bridegroom went crazy. A third 
rendition is that the disappointed lover concealed him- 
self in the apartment and committed the crime. 

Scott adopts the most plausible view, namely, that 
the young lady, forced to marry against her will, simply 
lost her reason and in a mad delirium assaulted her 

217 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

husband. That young gentleman recovered from his 
wounds. Thirteen years later, he was killed by a fall 
from his horse, a catastrophe which the novelist trans- 
fers to the disappointed suitor. 

The scenery of the drama which led to such a tragic 
event is placed by the author in the Lammermuir Hills, 
a stretch of mountainous country lying along the borders 
of Haddington and Berwick, in the southeastern corner 
of Scotland. At the extreme eastern limits of this ele- 
vated section, the land drops abruptly into the North 
Sea, forming a line of precipitous cliffs, rising three or 
four hundred feet above the ocean. To gain some idea 
of the character of the region, we drove as far as the 
motor-car could carry us and came to a stop at the end 
of the road on the northern edge of the village of North- 
field. A long walk, leading at first through an open 
field in which cattle were grazing, then along a narrow 
path by a brook, where numerous sheep were pasturing, 
thence by a winding road to the summit of a hill, brought 
me at last to the lighthouse of St. Abbs Head. Vast 
masses of rocks rise directly out of the ocean to enormous 
heights and stretch along the coast as far as the eye can 
see. Except for the lighthouse, there was no sign of life 
save the sea-fowl, which flew wildly in every direc- 
tion, screaming in one incessant chorus of shrill com- 
plaint. A lowering sky added to the weird loneliness of 
the scene. I was gone so long that my wife, who wisely 
remained in the car, began to feel certain that I had 
tumbled over the rocks into the sea, and busied herself 
for an hour in unpleasant thoughts of how she should 
manage to get my remains home. But after nearly two 
hours, the remains came walking back without even the 

218 



THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR 

excitement of being chased by a wild bull . Thus do most 
of our worries melt away if we give them time enough. 

Somewhere on this rugged shore was the castle of 
Wolf's Crag, the last remnant of the property of the 
Master of Ravenswood and the scene of Caleb Balder- 
stone's wonderful expedients to maintain the honour of 
his house. Caleb, by the way, who would make a first- 
class performer in a farce comedy, and who served a 
useful purpose in relieving the strain of a sombre narra- 
tive, was not without a prototype in real life. His exploit 
in carrying off the roast goose and the brace of wild 
ducks from the kitchen of the cooper, to make a dinner 
for his master's guests, was based upon a story told to 
Scott by a nobleman of his acquaintance. A certain 
gentleman in reduced circumstances had a servant 
named John, whose resourcefulness was much like 
Caleb's. A party of four or five friends once sought to 
surprise this gentleman by unexpectedly presenting 
themselves for dinner, suspecting there would be no 
provision in the house for such an entertainment. But 
promptly as the village clock struck the hour for the 
noonday meal, John placed on the table 'a stately rump 
of boiled beef, with a proper accompaniment of greens, 
amply sufficient to dine the whole party.' He had sim- 
ply appropriated the 'kail-pot' of a neighbour, leaving 
the latter and his friends to dine on bread and cheese, 
which, John said, was 'good enough for them.' 

Caleb's trick of magniloquently referring to scores of 
imaginary servants and detailing the particulars of fic- 
titious banquets, all to maintain the honour of the house, 
had a parallel in the antics of a Scotch innkeeper of the 
Border country, who, on the arrival of a person of impor- 

219 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

tance, would call Hostler No. 10 down from Hayloft 
No. i$ to conduct the gentleman's horse to one of the 
best stalls in Stable No. 20, and do it in such an eloquent 
style as to convey the impression of accommodations on 
a scale of magnificent proportions. 1 Wolf's Crag, accord- 
ing to the novel, is between St. Abbs Head and the vil- 
lage of Eyemouth. There is no such castle on that part 
of the coast, but in the opposite direction, only a few 
miles from St. Abbs Head, on a high rock overlooking 
the sea, is Fast Castle, which answers very well to the 
description. This much Scott himself acknowledged, 
but in his usual cautious way, asserting that he never 
saw the castle except from the sea. 2 An interesting 
painting of Fast Castle, presented to Sir Walter by the 
artist, the Rev. John Thomson of Duddingston, adorns 
the drawing-room at Abbotsford. 

Viewed from the sea, Fast Castle is more like the nest of 
some gigantic Roc or Condor, than a dwelling for human 
beings; being so completely allied in colour and rugged 
appearance with the huge cliffs, amongst which it seems to be 
jammed, that it is difficult to discover what is rock and what 
is building. To the land side the only access is by a rocky 
path of a very few feet wide, bordered on either hand by a 
tremendous precipice. This leads to the castle, a donjon 
tower of moderate size, surrounded by flanking walls, as 
usual, which, rising without interval and abruptly from the 
verge of the precipice must in ancient times have rendered 
the place nearly impregnable. 3 

1 From Robert Chambers's Illustrations of the Author of Waverley. 

2 In a note to the introduction to the Chronicles of the Canongate, 
Scott says, 'I would particularly intimate the Kaim of Uric, on the east- 
ern coast of Scotland, as having suggested an idea for the tower called 
Wolf's Crag, which the public more generally identified with the ancient 
tower of Fast Castle.' 

1 From Provincial Antiquities of Scotland. 

220 



THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR 

Fast Castle gained some notoriety from the attempt, in 
1600, of an infamous character, Logan of Restalrig, in 
conspiracy with the Earl of Gowrie and his brother, 
to kidnap King James VI, the intent being to imprison 
him there, and to collect their reward from Queen Eliza- 
beth. Fortunately for James, the plot failed. 

The original of Ravenswood Castle is uncertain. 
Constable, who published a volume of ' illustrations to the 
Waverley Novels' in 182 1, two years after the appear- 
ance of ' The Bride of Lammermoor ' included an engrav- 
ing of Crichton Castle, with a quotation referring to 
Ravenswood: 'on the gorge of a pass or mountain glen, 
ascending from the fertile plains of East Lothian, there 
stood in former times an extensive castle, of which only 
the ruins are now visible.' Crichton is at the western 
extremity of the high country of which the Lammermuir 
Hills constitute the greatest portion. Scott's fondness 
for it is well known, as readers of 'Marmion ' will remem- 
ber. Others have supposed Wintoun House, a fine old 
mansion farther to the north, to have been the original. 
Scott could hardly have had this in mind, however, for 
he distinctly refers to the place as now in ruins. Bearing 
in mind that Scott paid little attention to geographical 
requirements, it seems probable that he really referred 
to the ruins of Crichton. This is further confirmed by 
the fact that the picture to which I have referred was 
painted by Alexander Nasmyth, who was a friend of 
Scott's and the father-in-law of the author's frequent 
correspondent, Daniel Terry. If Crichton Castle is 
Ravenswood, the Crichton Kirk may be considered as 
the place where the wedding of Lucy Ashton and Buck- 
law took place. It is a curious-shaped building, with 

221 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

square tower and walls, partly covered with ivy, stand- 
ing in the midst of a well-kept churchyard. 

The novel opens with the dramatic burial-scene of 
the father of the young Master of Ravenswood. The 
chapel where this took place may be supposed to be 
Coldingham Priory, the oldest nunnery in Scotland, a 
quaint little structure, partly in ruins, but partly used for 
religious worship. In the chapter on 'Marmion' I have 
already referred to this chapel as the place where the 
body of a nun was found immured in the walls. 

The village of Eyemouth, a quaint old fishing settle- 
ment at the mouth of the river Eye, will serve as an 
'original' of Wolf's Hope. On the links or sand knolls, 
north of here, were the quicksands called the 'Kelpie's 
Flow.' While in the village I made diligent inquiries, 
but could get no information except from one man, who 
thought that the sandy beach of Coldingham Bay might 
be the locality which Scott meant, but he had never 
heard of the quicksands, and said if any had ever ex- 
isted in the vicinity they must have disappeared long 
since. 

It will be remembered that the Kelpie's Flow was the 
culminating scene of the tragedy. The prophecies of 
Thomas the Rhymer, so Scott would have us believe, 
were always fulfilled, and one of them was hanging over 
the head of the Master of Ravenswood, to the great trep- 
idation of the faithful Caleb. The lines were these: — 

When the last Laird of Ravenswood to 

Ravenswood shall ride, 
And woo a dead maiden to be his bride, 
He shall stable his steed in the Kelpie's flow 
And his name shall be lost for evermoe. 

222 



THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR 

After the tragedy in the Castle, young Ravenswood rode 
out to meet the bride's brother, Colonel Ashton, to fight 
a duel on the sands of Wolf's Hope. In the agitated 
state of his mind, he neglected the precaution of keeping 
on the firm sands near the rocks, and took a shorter and 
more dangerous course. Horse and man disappeared in 
the deadly quicksands, and thus was the prophecy ful- 
filled. Only a large sable feather was found as a sign of 
the young man's dreadful fate. Old Caleb took it up, 
dried it, and put it in his bosom. Thus ended the tale 
which Lockhart considered ' the most pure and powerful 
of all the tragedies that Scott ever penned.' 



CHAPTER XVI 

A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 

Dalgetty — Dugald Dalgetty; Ritt-master Dugald 
Dalgetty of Drumthwacket; learned graduate of the 
Mareschal College, Aberdeen; stalwart soldier; cavalier 
of fortune; lieutenant under that invincible monarch, 
the bulwark of the Protestant faith, the Lion of the 
North, the terror of Austria, Gustavus Adolphus; Cap- 
tain Dalgetty; and finally Sir Dugald Dalgetty — 
stalks with egregious effrontery through the pages of 
this novel, from start to finish, dragging his good horse 
Gustavus along with him. He is a bore, — undeniably 
so. Yet we can laugh at his eccentricities in spite of 
their tediousness, especially when reading the novel a 
second time after the desire to know the outcome of the 
story has been satisfied. As an original character he 
stands by the side of Bailie Nicol Jarvie, although he 
does not arouse the same subtle feeling of delightful sat- 
isfaction. The Bailie is always welcome, but Dalgetty 
is everlastingly in the way. And yet we could not possi- 
bly get along without him. We can forgive his pedantry 
and overlook his interminable lectures on military 
strategy in view of the loyalty and courage with which 
he faces Argyle in the dungeon, compels that nobleman 
to furnish a means of escape and rescues Ranald of the 
Mist. Nor can we help admiring the very effrontery of 
the man, when he uses it to such excellent advantage 
in cajoling the Presbyterian chaplain, thereby causing 

224 



A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 

that worthy man to furnish the one thing needed to fa- 
cilitate his safe retreat. The story might well have been 
called, as it is in the Italian and Portuguese versions, 'A 
Soldier of Fortune/ for Dalgetty, rather than Montrose, 
is the real hero. In this connection it is curious to note 
that, in so far as its chief incidents concern Montrose, 
the tale is not a legend, but history. The two important 
words of the title are both, therefore, slightly misleading. 
The journey into the Highlands of the Marquis of 
Montrose, in disguise and attended by only two gentle- 
men, is a matter of history. It was in 1644, during the 
Civil War, when the forces of Charles I were being 
menaced by an army of twenty thousand men under the 
Scotch Covenanter, General Leslie. Montrose urged 
Charles to make a counter-demonstration in the North 
and to draw Leslie back to the defence of Scotland by 
uniting the Highlanders with a strong force of ten thou- 
sand Irish Catholics. At length, armed with extraor- 
dinary powers, as the representative of the King, he 
was permitted to set out with a small army of about one 
thousand men. These became dissatisfied, however, 
and most of them deserted. In despair Montrose now 
resolved upon the bold stroke which proved to be the 
beginning of his brilliant military record. Disguised as 
a groom and attended only by Sir William Rollo and 
Colonel Sibbald, he made his way to the Perthshire 
Highlands, where he was joined by Lord Kilpont, son of 
the Earl of Airth and Menteith, with about five hun- 
dred men. The Irish troops, after being in danger of 
complete extermination by the Marquis of Argyle, fin- 
ally arrived, but mustered only twelve hundred men 
instead of ten thousand. They were ordered to march 

225 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

to Blair Atholl, where Montrose met the Highland 
chiefs and sent out the call to arms. The 'fiery cross/ 
no doubt very much as described in * The Lady of the 
Lake,' went out from house to house and from clan to 
clan, and Montrose soon had an army of three thousand 
men. He marched toward Perth, and at Tippermuir, 
four miles west of that city, defeated the Covenanters 
on the ist day of September, 1644. Marching rapidly 
towards Aberdeen, he won another victory at the Bridge 
of Dee on the 12th of the same month. 

With the swift movements which characterized his 
generalship, Montrose won many a battle. Meanwhile 
the Marquis of Argyle, whom most of the clans hated 
for his unscrupulous aggressions, was gathering a strong 
force on the shores of Loch Linnhe. In midwinter, with 
snow upon the ground, Montrose crossed the mountains 
with his army, a feat hitherto regarded as impossible, 
but quite within the compass of that leader's remark- 
able genius. He met Argyle at Inverlochy and defeated 
him with a loss of fifteen hundred men, his own losses 
being only one officer and three privates. Argyle's forces 
scattered in every direction and were pursued for many 
miles. The Marquis himself, regarding discretion as the 
better part of valour, turned over the command of his 
forces to his cousin and watched the battle from his 
ship — an act that was severely condemned as coward- 
ice, even by his own friends. In extenuation it can only 
be said that Argyle, while an able politician and states- 
man, was never a soldier. 

While Scott based his story upon these historical 
events, he departed from the facts in some of the less 
important details, to serve the purposes of his romance. 

226 



A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 

The most conspicuous of these variations is in the part 
played by Lord Kilpont, as the Earl of Menteith. 
According to the novel, the Earl is a young man who 
falls in love with Annot Lyle, a pretty little maiden liv- 
ing in the household of the McAulays and supposed to 
be a rescued waif of the hated and greatly feared tribe, 
known as the 'Children of the Mist.' Annot is also 
beloved by the half-crazy Highlander, Allan McAulay. 
Lord Menteith, so long as the girl's antecedents are 
supposed to be so lowly, can entertain no thought of 
marriage and so informs Allan. When it is discovered, 
however, that she is really the daughter of Sir Duncan 
Campbell, and the heiress of Ardenvohr, a family as 
honourable as his own, Menteith no longer hesitates, 
and as Annot has long reciprocated his affection, the 
marriage is easily arranged. Allan does not consent so 
readily, but hastily encounters the Earl and fiercely 
challenges him. Convinced that the man is insane, the 
Earl hesitates a moment, when Allan suddenly draws 
his dirk and with terrific force plunges it into the Earl's 
bosom. A steel corslet saves the latter's life, though a 
severe wound is inflicted, and in a few weeks he is well 
enough to be married and the ceremony takes place in 
Sir Duncan's castle. Allan meanwhile appears suddenly 
before the Marquis of Argyle at Inverary, throws a 
bloody dirk upon the table, makes a brief explanation, 
and disappears forever. The novel closes in the conven- 
tional way. The Earl of Menteith, adding his bride's 
large estate to his own, 'lived long, happy alike in pub- 
lic regard and in domestic affection, and died at a good 
old age.' 
The Earl, Lord Kilpont, was not so fortunate. He was 

227 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

suddenly stabbed by James Stewart of Ardvoirlich, a 
supposed friend with whom he was on terms of the clos- 
est intimacy. This event, which was immediately fatal, 
took place a few days after the battle of Tippermuirand 
not after Inverlochy. There was no question of jealous 
rivalry in love. Kilpont had been married about twelve 
years and left a family of several children. The most 
probable explanation is that Stewart, who had a streak 
of insanity owing to the frightful circumstances of his 
birth, 1 quarrelled with his friend at a time when he was 
heated with drink and killed him under some sudden 
mad impulse. He immediately deserted Montrose and 
was subsequently made a major in one of the regiments 
of Argyle, a fact which gave colour to the suspicion that 
he had sought Lord Kilpont's assistance in a conspiracy 
to assassinate Montrose, for which Argyle would have 
paid a rich reward, but upon meeting with an indignant 
refusal, struck his friend with a dirk as the readiest 
means of avoiding the betrayal of his plans. 

Stewart, like McAulay, is described as 'uncommonly 
tall, strong, and active, with such power in the grasp of 
his hand as could force the blood from beneath the nails 
of the persons who contended with him in this feat of 
strength. His temper was moody, fierce, and irascible.' 
There was good reason for this savage disposition and 
for his implacable hostility toward the ' Children of the 
Mist,' his father and mother having been the victims of 
one of the most fiendish outrages which ever disgraced 
the history of the Highlanders. 

The scenery of 'A Legend of Montrose' brings us back 

1 The story is related at length in the Introduction to A Legend of 
Montrose. 

228 



A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 

to the people and the country which Scott described 
with so much enthusiasm in ' The Lady of the Lake ' and 
again in 'Waverley' and 'Rob Roy.' To catch some- 
thing of the spirit of it we drove westward from Callan- 
der and paused for a short time at the beautiful Falls of 
Leny, where the river of that name forms the outlet of 
Loch Lubnaig and the head waters of the river Teith. 
Here we may suppose Lord Menteith and 'Anderson,' 
the disguised earl, to be passing on their way to the 
north when they fell in with the garrulous Captain 
Dalgetty. Darnlinvarich, where the clans gathered, is 
wholly fictitious, the real meeting having taken place 
near Blair Atholl. One of the incidents which happened 
there is, however, based upon fact. 

An Englishman, Sir Miles Musgrave, it will be remem- 
bered, had made a wager with Angus McAulay which 
threatened to embarrass that gentleman. When on a 
visit to the house of the former, Angus had seen six solid 
silver candlesticks put on the table. The Englishman 
rallied Angus a little, knowing that the sight was a nov- 
elty to the Scotchman, and the latter promptly swore 
that he had more and better candlesticks in his own cas- 
tle. A wager was immediately offered and accepted that 
the Scotch laird could not produce them, the amount 
being so large that its payment would have embarrassed 
either party, but more particularly the Scotchman. The 
Englishman appeared with a friend at Darnlinvarich, 
just at the time of the arrival of the Earl of Menteith 
and his party, and there was great anxiety over the 
apparently certain loss of the wager. But Allan, the 
brother of Angus, was equal to the emergency. Dinner 
was announced and the company marched in. A large 

229 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

oaken table, spread with substantial joints of meat, was 
set for eight guests, and behind each chair stood a gigan- 
tic Highlander, in full native costume, holding in his 
right hand a drawn broadsword, the point turned down- 
ward, and in his left a blazing pine torch. Then Allan 
stepped forth, and pointing to the torch-bearers, said in 
a deep and stern voice: 'Behold, gentlemen cavaliers, 
the chandeliers of my brother's house, the ancient fash- 
ion of our ancient name; not one of these men knows 
any law but their Chief's command. Would you dare 
to compare to ihemm value the richest ore that ever was 
dug out of the mine? How say you, cavaliers? — is your 
wager won or lost?' 'Lost, lost,' said Musgrave, gaily; 
'my own silver candlesticks are all melted and riding on 
horseback by this time, and I wish the fellows that 
enlisted were half as trusty as these.' 

The meeting of the clans was interrupted by an unwel- 
come guest, Sir Duncan Campbell, who came with a 
message from Argyle. Captain Dalgetty was appointed 
to return with him, under a flag of truce, and together 
they journeyed to the Castle of Ardenvohr, the residence 
of Sir Duncan. 

The ancient Celtic fortress here described is the 
ruined castle of Dunstaffnage, reached by a short drive 
north from Oban. Its origin is unknown. According to 
one tradition, it was founded by a Pictish monarch, 
contemporary with Julius Caesar. In its present shape 
the building probably dates from about 1250. It fell 
into the hands of Robert Bruce in 1308. The castle is a 
heavy structure of stone, standing on a solid rock, and 
protected by the waters of Loch Linnhe on three sides. 
It was originally accessible only by a drawbridge. It is 

230 



A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 

about one hundred and forty feet long and one hundred 
feet wide. The walls are ten feet thick and sixty feet high. 

This ancient castle is the place where the Scottish 
princes were once crowned. They sat on the same stone 
that was used at the recent coronation of King George V, 
and of a long line of his predecessors, — the famous 
Stone of Scone. This ancient relic was carried from Ire- 
land to the Island of Iona, and thence to Dunstaffnage, 
where it remained many years. Kenneth MacAlpine, 
in the ninth century, removed it to the palace of Scone, 
near Perth, where it remained five centuries. It was 
finally seized by Edward I and carried to London, where 
it has remained for the last six centuries. 

A knoll on the south of the castle curiously suggests 
the Drumsnab of the novel, which Dalgetty insisted 
should be fortified according to his own military ideas. 
The castle of Inverary, on the shore of Loch Fyne, has 
been replaced by a magnificent modern mansion, the 
seat of the present Duke of Argyle. The secret passage 
to the dungeon, under the old castle, through which the 
novelist supposes the Marquis to have visited his pris- 
oners, was suggested by a similar arrangement in the 
castle of Na worth, to which I have previously referred. 1 
A private stairway leads from the apartment of Lord 
William Howard to the dungeon, by which the exper- 
iment of Argyle might have been and doubtless was 
practised, 

A sail of less than four hours, from Oban, north 
through the picturesque channels of Loch Linnhe, 
brought us to Fort William. From this point we walked 
about two miles to the battle-field of Inverlochy and the 

1 Pages 20 and 43. 
231 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

ruins of the old castle of that name, which we found to be 
in a sadly neglected state, far different from its neigh- 
bour, Dunstaffnage. The four walls of the enclosure 
may still be seen, but everything is in a ruinous condi- 
tion. An antiquated horse with large protruding hip- 
bones was grazing in what was once the moat, and before 
taking a picture I was about to ask a boy to chase him 
away. But on second thought I let him stay, because 
he harmonized so perfectly with the surroundings. 

The courtyard is about one hundred feet square. The 
walls are nine feet thick and of varying height. Like 
Dunstaffnage the castle is so old that its early history is 
shrouded in mystery. Tradition ascribes its origin to 
the Comyns, near the end of the thirteenth century. 
The view in every direction is charming. Across the 
river Lochy, a small stream which joins the Caledonian 
Canal to the waters of Loch Linnhe, may be seen the 
town of Banavie, and in the distance the highlands of In- 
verness-shire. In the opposite direction we could barely 
see the peaks of Ben Nevis, peeping through the mists 
that hung over the mountains. To the north are the 
heights of Lochaber over which the Marquis of Mont- 
rose made his famous march of thirty miles by an unfre- 
quented route, during a heavy fall of snow, and suddenly 
confronted his enemy in the night, when they supposed 
him to be far away in another part of the country. 

I think this novel must have been inspired by Scott's 
admiration of the 'Great Marquis,' whose brief but 
brilliant campaign in the Highlands appealed to his 
imagination just as the longer career of Rob Roy had 
done. It took him back among the picturesque people 
whom he loved to describe, and amidst scenery where 

232 



A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 

he had roamed with never-failing delight. The one pos- 
session in the remarkable antiquarian collection at 
Abbotsford which Scott cherished more than any other 
— more even than Rob Roy's gun — was the sword of 
Montrose, presented to the Marquis by Charles I and 
formerly the property of the monarch's father, King 
James. Sir Walter thought a dialogue between this 
sword and Rob Roy's gun might be composed with good 
effect. It seems a pity he did not undertake it. The 
sword bears on both sides the royal arms of Great 
Britain. The blade is handsomely ornamented, the hilt 
is finished in open scrollwork of silver gilt, and the grip 
is bound with chains of silver, alternating with bands 
of gold. 

Scott did not follow the fortunes of his hero beyond 
the battle of Inverlochy, where he left him in triumph. 
Montrose continued his success until, on the 15 th of 
August, 1645, he reached his climax in the decisive vic- 
tory of Kilsyth. He was now the master of Scotland, 
but, unfortunately, fate deprived him of the fruits of his 
genius. Summoned to England to meet the exigencies 
which threatened the King, and unable to hold his High- 
landers for an invasion of the South, he was attacked at 
Philiphaugh by Leslie, who easily overcame the small 
opposing force. Montrose escaped to the Highlands, 
but was never again able to organize an army. After 
spending the next few years abroad, he returned to Scot- 
land in 1650, where, after failing again to summon the 
clans, he was betrayed and carried a prisoner to the Tol- 
booth in Edinburgh. On the 21st of May, when only 
thirty-eight years old, he was hanged in the Grass- 
market and bravely met his death. 



CHAPTER XVII 

IVANHOE 

From 'Bonnie Scotland' to 'Merrie England' was not 
a long step for Sir Walter, for he had already peeped 
into Yorkshire at Barnard Castle for his poem, ' Rokeby.' 
The principal scenes of 'Ivanhoe' are laid in the oppo- 
site end of the same county, between Sheffield and 
Doncaster. They extend, however, as far south as 
Ashby de la Zouch, and northward to the ancient city 
of York. As we rode through this populous country, 
humming with the industry of thousands of busy mills, 
its crowded cities showing street after street of substan- 
tial business houses, its more open spaces dotted with 
neat cottages surrounded by well-kept gardens, its 
streams crossed by bridges of stone and steel, its roads 
in excellent repair, and its entire aspect betokening the 
peace and prosperity of a great civilization, it was diffi- 
cult to picture it in fancy as the great forest roamed by 
Robin Hood and his merry men; as a land in which King 
Richard and Wilfred of Ivanhoe performed their feats of 
chivalry and daring; as the region in which Cedric the 
Saxon still resented the intrusion of the Normans, and 
Front-de-Bceuf maintained a feudal castle concealing 
horrors too frightful to mention. 

We succeeded, however, in finding a bit of the original 
forest, in identifying the ruins of two castles which 
figure prominently in the story, and several others which 
doubtless served as types of the prevailing Norman style 

234 



IVANHOE 

of architecture, besides other interesting places more 
remotely associated with the tale. 

The town of Ashby de la Zouch, to which all the 
people of the story wend their way in the early chapters, 
is on the western edge of Leicestershire, about midway 
between Birmingham and Nottingham. The ancient 
castle derives its name from the fact that it was formerly 
owned by the Zouch family, who seem to have had 
possession until 1399. Scott was slightly in error in 
stating that at this time (n 94) 'the castle and town of 
Ashby belonged to Roger de Quincey, Earl of Winches- 
ter,' who was then absent in the Holy Land. It is not 
inconceivable, however, that Prince John might have 
taken temporary possession, and, after all, that is the 
main point of the story. 

The castle was a ruin in Scott's day, presenting an 
appearance very much the same as now. It suggested 
the scene of Prince John's banquet, but the novelist 
well knew that it was not the original castle which stood 
on the spot in n 94. Of the old castle we found only a 
single wall. The date of its foundation is uncertain, but 
it was probably built in the earlier part of the same 
century. Its successor, represented by the ruins now 
visible, was built in 1474, nearly three hundred years 
after the period of the novel. The reigning king was 
Edward IV, and one of his prime favourites was Wil- 
liam, Lord Hastings, who was not only loaded with 
wealth by his sovereign, but given almost unlimited 
authority to enclose for private use whatever land he 
wished and to build wherever he pleased. Accordingly 
Hastings took possession of three thousand acres of 
land at Ashby and erected a huge castle, despoiling the 

235 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

neighbouring castle of Belvoir of much lead, with which 
he covered his towers. The strong fortress and splendid 
castle thus erected stood intact for less than two cent- 
uries. During the Civil War it was besieged and cap- 
tured by the Parliamentary Army, and in 1648 was 
deliberately made untenable by a Committee of the 
House of Commons, who had been appointed to deter- 
mine what castles and other fortified places were to be 
retained and which ones were to be destroyed. Ashby, 
unfortunately, was condemned and huge sections of its 
walls and towers were undermined and pulled down. 

The ruin consists of two large towers, connected by an 
underground passage, the great hall, the chapel, and the 
room of Mary Queen of Scots. The kitchen tower was 
of great strength, having walls in some places ten feet 
thick, and the remains of a huge kitchen fireplace may 
still be seen. The most imposing part of the ruin is the 
keep. This was a tower eighty feet high, fitted up in 
great magnificence as the Earl's apartment. 

The great tournament was supposed to be held in a 
field a mile or two from the tower. After the tournament 
and the banquet in the castle which followed, Cedric the 
Saxon and his kinsman, Athelstane of Coningsburgh, 
with the Lady Rowena and their servants and retainers, 
set out for Rotherwood, the house of Cedric, presumably 
in the neighbourhood of, or possibly a fictitious substi- 
tute for, the present city of Rotherham. Their way led 
through a great forest, some remnants of which may 
still be seen. In King Richard's time the entire country 
between Ashby and Rotherham may have been thickly 
wooded. The famous Sherwood Forest occupied the 
western portion of Nottinghamshire, extending north 

236 



IVANHOE 

and south about twenty-five miles, with a width varying 
from six to eight miles. In this extensive woodland, 
Robin Hood, with the jolly Friar Tuck and the minstrel 
Allan-a-Dale, and all the rest of the 'merry men,' 
hunted the king's deer, robbed the rich and bestowed 
charity upon the poor, worshipped the Virgin and pil- 
laged the ecclesiastical establishments, supported them- 
selves by means of their marvellous archery, played 
practical jokes and indulged in no end of fun, and lived 
a free, open, adventurous, brave, and generous life, in 
spite of their outlawry. Robin Hood was undoubtedly 
an historical character, who may have had an existence 
as early as the time of King Richard, but whose deeds 
have been so much enveloped in fiction and poetry that 
his real exploits cannot be determined. The legends 
that have been woven about him are like the tales of 
King Arthur — mythical but probably evolved from 
some hidden germ of truth. From 1377, when the old- 
est known mention of him was made in an edition of 
'Piers the Ploughman,' down to the Elizabethan era, 
his popularity is evinced by the great volume of bal- 
lad poetry recording his performances. 

That such a personage should have made a strong 
appeal to Sir Walter Scott was inevitable, and he seems 
to have woven the characteristic exploits of Robin Hood 
into the tale of 'Ivanhoe' with the same zest which he 
displayed in 'The Lady of the Lake,' 'Waverley,' 
'Rob Roy,' and 'A Legend of Montrose,' where he so 
delighted to picture the Scottish Highlanders in their 
native country. 

North of Mansfield, in Nottinghamshire, a beautiful 
part of the Forest of Sherwood may still be seen. For 

237 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

many miles we drove through endless glades and 
avenues, the rugged oaks intertwining their branches 
over our heads, now and then forming those ' long sweep- 
ing vistas' which Scott describes so well, 'in the intri- 
cacy of which the eye delights to lose itself, while 
imagination considers them as the paths to yet wilder 
scenes of silvan solitude.' Here and there we could see 
herds of deer, coming boldly into view, knowing well 
that the arrows of Robin Hood's men are things of the 
past. All this region is now well cared for. There are 
splendid palaces with lakes, fountains, and flowers, 
transforming the old forest into a veritable fairy-land. 
Thoresby House with its beautiful park is the property 
of Earl Manvers; Clumber, on the border of the Car- 
burton Lakes, is the stately seat of the Duke of New- 
castle, and Welbeck Abbey, with gardens covering 
thirty-two acres, lakes of one hundred and fifty-nine 
acres, and a deer park of sixteen hundred and forty 
acres, is the magnificent domain of the Duke of Port- 
land. All this section, which has been dubbed 'the 
Dukeries,' while preserving something of the appearance 
of a forest, can only present a striking contrast to the 
wild tangle of the woods, with their narrow and devious 
paths, through which the Saxon party passed on their 
way to Rotherwood. 

Cedric, it will be remembered, soon overtook Isaac of 
York, the rich Jew, and his lovely daughter, Rebecca, 
who had been deserted by their cowardly escort. They 
were carrying, in a litter, 'a sick friend,' under which 
designation they concealed the identity of Ivanhoe. 
The whole party was later surprised and captured by 
some of the Norman nobles of Prince John's party, 

238 



IVANHOE 

disguised as outlaws, by whom they were carried to 
Torquilstone, the castle of Front-de-Bceuf. This imag- 
inary feudal edifice may be supposed to be in the vicin- 
ity of Harthill, a village nine miles south of Rotherham. 

The dramatic incidents that occurred here are 
familiar to every one: how De Bracy made his futile 
attempt to woo the Lady Rowena, trusting to his hand- 
some face and foppish clothes; how the Templar tried 
his blandishments upon Rebecca and was defeated by 
her courage in threatening to leap from the battle- 
ments, should he advance a single step; how Front-de- 
Bceuf sought to extort a fortune from Isaac the Jew by 
the most cruel torture; and how the villainy of all three 
was interrupted by a bugle blast, announcing an attack 
upon the castle by a band of outlaws, headed by the 
gallant Robin Hood, who was ably supported by the 
powerful battle-axe of the Black Knight and the wit of 
Wamba the Jester. 

After the fall of the castle it will be remembered that 
the victors assembled under a huge oak to divide the 
spoils, and that Isaac of York and the rich Prior Aymer 
were compelled to sentence each other to the payment 
of a heavy ransom — a clever scheme well calculated 
to furnish not only amusement but substantial profit to 
the outlaws. 

There are several large oaks of Sherwood Forest still 
in existence, any one of which might have been in the 
mind of Sir Walter. We found an excellent type, which 
was perhaps known to him, near Edwinstowe, northeast 
of Mansfield. It is called the 'Major Oak' and was a 
monarch of the forest in Robin Hood's time. It is said 
to be fourteen hundred years old. Its circumference, just 

239 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

above the ground, is sixty feet, and there is room inside 
the hollow trunk for a round dozen of average-sized men. 
Unlike many other ancient oaks, its huge limbs are well 
preserved and remarkably symmetrical, its foliage 
forming a huge ellipsoid, seventy-five feet in length. 

Although Torquilstone was imaginary, Sir Walter 
was not without types of the old Norman castles. He 
refers to Middleham as the seat of the brother of Prior 
Aymer, and the ruins of this castle may still be seen in 
the village of that name, in the West Riding of York- 
shire. The interior or keep is in the distinctive Norman 
style of architecture, but the outer walls belong to a 
later period. This castle was founded by Robert Fitz- 
Ralph or Ranulph, a nephew of King William Rufus, 
about 1 1 90. Its walls are plain and massive, suggesting 
great strength, but no beauty. In the interior of the 
keep may be seen the remains of what was once a huge 
and magnificent banqueting-hall, with high arched 
windows on the side. For centuries Middleham was the 
residence of powerful barons and at times of royalty. In 
the fifteenth century it came into the possession of the 
famous Earl of Warwick, 'the Kingmaker,' and later of 
his infamous son-in-law, the Duke of Gloucester, after- 
ward King Richard III. Edward, Prince of Wales, the 
only legitimate son of Richard, was born here. It was to 
secure the succession of this prince to the throne that 
Richard caused the murder of his two nephews to be 
perpetrated in the Tower of London. 

Edward IV was a prisoner here, and made his escape 
as told by Shakespeare in 'King Henry VI.' 1 After the 
battle of Bosworth, Henry VII took possession of 

1 Part III, act iv, scene v. 
240 



IVANHOE 

Middleham. In the Civil Wars the forces of Cromwell 
destroyed the castle. From that time until 1884, when 
it came into possession of the present owner, the ruins 
have been a stone quarry for the neighbourhood and a 
large part of the castle has been carried away piece- 
meal. The enclosure became a dumping-ground for all 
kinds of trash and a free pig-pen and cow-stable. In 
1884, it was cleaned out and is now in charge of a 
keeper. This famous castle, occupied as it was at times 
by men of all the ferocious and conscienceless qualities 
of Front-de-Bceuf, might well have served as a sugges- 
tion for Torquilstone. 

Richmond Castle, lying a few miles north of Middle- 
ham, is of even greater antiquity and a far nobler speci- 
men of the Norman architecture. It was founded in 
1 07 1 by Alan Rufus, to whom William the Conqueror 
granted the land of Richmondshire. Alan selected a rock 
on the bank of the river Swale and here he constructed 
a fortress that was well-nigh impregnable. The great 
'keep' was built in 1146, and still stands proudly erect, 
in spite of its nearly eight hundred years' resistance to 
wind and weather as well as the storms of war, looking 
as if conscious of its power to stand the assaults of eight 
centuries more. We went to Richmond expecting to see 
a ruin; we were astonished to find, instead, a fine tower 
one hundred and eight feet high, fifty-four feet long, and 
forty-eight feet wide, used as an armoury by a modern 
regiment of soldiers. Its walls are of extraordinary thick- 
ness and the masonry looks as fresh and clean as that of 
many a building of half a century's duration. 

Aside from the remarkable keep, the castle is really a 
ruin. Its walls, which originally enclosed a triangular 

241 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

space of five acres, have crumbled away, but enough 
remains to identify various halls, chapels, dungeons, 
and underground passages. 

The castle was seized by Richard Cceur-de-Lion and 
held by him and his successor King John for several 
years. For five centuries thereafter it passed from 
royalty to nobility and back again, time after time, as 
a reward for services or the spoils of war, until in 1674 
it was granted by Charles II to the ancestor of the 
present Duke of Richmond. 

Torquilstone is described as 'a fortress of no great 
size, consisting of a donjon, or large and high square 
tower, surrounded by buildings of inferior height, which 
were encircled by an inner courtyard.' It had 'towers 
upon the outward wall so as to flank it at every angle.' 
It would appear from this that the castle of Front-de- 
Bceuf might have been a miniature copy of Richmond 
Castle. 

South of Richmond and about three miles from 
Middleham are the ruins of Jorvaulx Abbey, the seat 
of the Prior Aymer, ' a free and jovial priest, who loves 
the wine-cup and the bugle-horn better than bell and 
book.' The monks of Jorvaulx were famous for their 
love of feasting and the excellence of their wines. The 
Abbey church was originally an extensive structure, 
two hundred and seventy feet long, with transepts one 
hundred and thirteen feet wide. It was roughly treated 
and nearly demolished during the Reformation and 
neglected in the succeeding years until about a century 
ago, when the accumulated rubbish was cleared away. 
It now presents a picturesque appearance because of the 
ivy, moss, and shrubbery with which nature has soft- 

242 



IVANHOE 

ened the aspect of its rudely broken walls and the frag- 
ments of stone which once were heavy columns support- 
ing a lofty nave. 

Still farther south are the imposing ruins of Fountains 
Abbey, which must not be overlooked in any survey of 
the scenery of 'Ivanhoe,' for here was the alleged abode 
of that delightful character, the jolly Clerk of Copman- 
hurst, Friar Tuck, whose all-night carousal with King 
Richard in the forest 'Chapel of St. Dunstan' will be 
ever memorable as one of Scott's choicest bits of hu- 
mour. This celebrated 'churchman' was the type of a 
class of so-called 'hedge-priests' who flourished in the 
period preceding the Reformation, when every great 
house maintained a confessor to say masses and grant 
absolution. The bands of outlaws, with equal supersti- 
tion, felt the need of the same services, and maintained 
their own priests accordingly. Many of these per- 
formed their holy offices in ragged and dirty attire and 
with improper forms of ritual, for the benefit of thieves 
and murderers in out-of-the-way ruins and other hid- 
ing places, thereby incurring the wrath of the dignitaries 
of the Church. Not infrequently, no doubt, their 
uncanonical performances were no better than those of 
Friar Tuck. 

Fountains Abbey is, next to Melrose, the most beauti- 
ful ruin of the kind in Great Britain — at least so far as 
I have been able to observe. In beauty of situation, it 
far surpasses Melrose. The latter is in the midst of a 
town with nothing to make a picturesque setting except 
its own churchyard and the garden of an adjoining 
estate. Fountains is reached by walking nearly a mile 
through the beautiful park of Studley Royal, first by the 

243 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

side of a canal, bordered by trees of luxuriant foliage, 
through which, at intervals, are various 'peeps,' reveal- 
ing carefully studied scenes, with temples, statuary, 
rustic bridges, towers, lakes, and woods; then by a path 
of more natural beauty, beside the little rivulet called 
the Skell, until the extensive ruins are reached. The 
foundation of Fountains Abbey has been traced to the 
year 1132, according to the narrative of a monk which 
was committed to writing in 1205. In the winter of 
1132-33, a small company of Benedictine monks from 
St. Mary's Abbey at York, becoming dissatisfied with 
the laxity of discipline there, felt impelled to withdraw. 
They retired to a wild and uncultivated valley, covered 
with stones and briars, and better suited for wild beasts 
and reptiles than for humanity, and built a monastery 
beside the brook Skell. From this humble beginning, 
Fountains Abbey grew until the establishment became 
one of the richest in England, comprising sixty-four 
thousand acres of valuable lands and its buildings, 
covering an area of twelve acres, were among the most 
magnificent. In 1539, King Henry VIII confiscated the 
entire property, and rendered the monastery unfit for 
further use. 

The ruins are more complete than those of any other 
similar structure, and give an excellent idea of the ex- 
tent and arrangement of an important monastery. From 
the Chapel of the Nine Altars to the west doorway, 
which was the chief entrance, is a distance of three hun- 
dred and sixty-nine feet. It is an impressive architect- 
ural vista, the eye sweeping over the choir and tran- 
septs and down through the narrow nave, where the walls 
are supported by eleven obtuse pointed arches, springing 

244 



IVANHOE 

from massive columns, each sixteen feet in circumfer- 
ence and twenty- three feet high. The Chapel of the 
Nine Altars, considered to have been the most magnifi- 
cent architectural feature of the structure, is divided 
into three parts by a series of very high pointed arches, 
supported by slender octagonal pillars scarcely two 
feet in diameter. A great east window, sixty feet high 
and twenty-three feet wide, completed the dignity and 
beauty of the chapel. From the exterior, the most strik- 
ing feature is the tower, rising one hundred and sixty- 
eight feet high, with walls nearly thirty feet square, and 
projecting buttresses, adding an effect of great solidity. 
The connection of Friar Tuck with this fine abbey is 
derived from the ancient ballad of 'Robin Hood and 
the Curtal Friar.' The outlaws were indulging in an 
exhibition of their wonderful archery when an unusually 
fine shot caused Robin Hood to exclaim: — 

I would ride my horse an hundred miles 
To finde one could match with thee. 

This brought a laugh from Will Scarlet, who declared: — 

There lives a curtal frier in Fountains Abby 
Will beat both him and thee. 

Robin Hood could not rest until he found the friar, 
walking by the waterside near the abbey. A conflict fol- 
lowed in which the friar threw Robin into the stream. 
After Robin had shot all his arrows at the friar without 
effect, — 

l - They took their swords and steel bucklers 
And fought with might and maine; 

From ten oth' clock that day, 
Till four ith' afternoon. 

245 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Then Robin blew three blasts of his horn and called 
half a hundred yeomen. The friar whistled with fist in 
his mouth and half a hundred ban-dogs answered. The 
end of the battle proved the stout friar well qualified to 
join the band of merry men. 

This curtal frier had kept Fountains Dale 
Seven long years or more; 
There was neither knight, lord, nor earl 
Could make him yield before. 

An arched recess, of stone, well covered with foliage, by 
the side of the path along the river, marks the tradi- 
tional site of this famous combat, and is known as 
' Robin Hood's Well.' The following lines were written 
by Sir Walter while a guest at Studley Royal, and the 
manuscript is now in the possession of the Marquess of 
Ripon: — 

Beside this crystal font of old, 
Cooled his flushed brow an outlaw bold, 
His bow was slackened while he drank, 
His quiver rested on the bank, 
Giving brief pause of doubt and fear 
To feudal lords and forest deer. 

Long runs the tale, but village sires 
Still sing his feats by Christmas fires; 
And still old England's free-born blood 
Stirs at the name of Robin Hood. 

After the fall of Torquilstone and the almost miracu- 
lous deliverance of all the prisoners, Cedric and his com- 
pany journeyed to the Castle of Coningsburgh, the seat 
of Athelstane, to perform the funeral rites of that noble 
warrior, who had fallen a victim to the Templar's battle- 
axe. Athelstane interrupts the proceedings, somewhat 

246 



IVANHOE 

unnecessarily it would seem, by coming to life again. A 
visit to this castle takes us back to the valley of the 
Don, where the story began. Conisborough, as the vil- 
lage is now called, is situated about midway between 
Rotherham and Doncaster. There is nothing fanciful 
in Scott's description here. He introduced the castle 
because it interested him, and made it the seat of 
Athelstane for convenience. In a letter to his friend 
Morritt in 1811 Scott inquires, 'Do you know anything 
of a striking ancient castle . . . called Coningsburgh? . . . 
I once flew past it in a mail-coach when its round tower 
and flying buttresses had a most romantic effect in the 
morning dawn.' 

It was characteristic of Scott, not only that every old 
ruined castle appealed to his imagination, but that his 
curiosity, once aroused, usually had to be satisfied by a 
personal inspection. It was so with Coningsburgh. He 
went to the village and spent two nights at the Sprot- 
brough Boathouse, a near-by inn, that he might have 
leisure to examine the ruins of the castle. The result of 
his study and the further reading of such antiquarian 
authorities as were available, convinced him that the 
round tower was an ancient Saxon castle. He found 
satisfaction in comparing it with the rude towers, or 
burghs, built by the Saxons or Northmen, of which one 
of the most striking examples is the Castle of Mousa * in 
the Shetland Islands. These were built of rough stone, 
without cement. They were roofless, and had small 
apartments constructed within the circular walls them- 
selves. In this last respect Coningsburgh somewhat 
resembles these ancient burghs, and Scott conceived 

1 See Chapter xxi, ' The Pirate,' p. 300. 
247 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

that the former was an evolution from the latter, and 
therefore Saxon. He says, ' the outer walls have prob- 
ably been added by the Normans, but the inner keep 
bears token of very great antiquity.' He also says: 
'When Coeur-de-Lion and his retinue approached this 
rude yet stately building, it was not, as at present, sur- 
rounded by external fortifications. The Saxon architect 
had exhausted his art in rendering the main keep defen- 
sible, and there was no other circumvallation than a rude 
barrier of palisades.' 

The facts, as indicated by more recent investigation, 
seem to be that the Saxons selected the hill of hard lime- 
stone as a suitable place for a stronghold, excavated a 
ditch around it and erected some outworks. There is 
no doubt that Harold, the last of the Anglo-Saxon 
kings, either purchased or inherited the property, and 
there is mention of a certain 'lord of Coningesboro,' 
who possessed part of the domain as early as the year 
iooo A.D. 

William the Conqueror, shortly after his accession to 
the English throne, granted the estate to an adherent, 
William de Warrenne, who was created Earl of Surrey. 
A great-granddaughter of this earl married Hameline 
Plantagenet, a half-brother of Henry II, and he was one 
of the soldiers and faithful attendants of Richard I. It 
is this earl who is supposed to have built the tower, or 
keep, at least a century after his Norman predecessors 
had erected the outer walls of the castle. This, it will be 
noted, is exactly the reverse of Scott's supposition. 

The Saxon founders selected a steep hill, or knoll, 
rising one hundred and seventy-five feet above the river 
— an ideal site for a fortress in those days. 

248 



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IVANHOE 

Earl Warren, who came into possession about 1068, 
found the place already well fortified. His son and 
grandson were the ones who, it is supposed, constructed 
the outer walls, with their various buildings for domes- 
tic purposes, comprising a hall, kitchen, chapel, etc. 
These cover a large area, but present no features of 
extraordinary interest. The inner tower, or keep, how- 
ever, is one of the most remarkable structures in Eng- 
land. It is a huge cylindrical tower built of grey lime- 
stone on a base of solid natural rock. It formerly rose 
to a height of one hundred and twenty feet, and is now 
about ninety feet high. It is sixty-six feet in diameter 
at the base, and is supported by six massive buttresses, 
each fifteen and one half feet broad and extending out- 
ward about nine feet. The walls themselves are nearly 
fifteen feet in thickness. The only entrance is a door, 
twenty feet above the ground, originally reached by an 
outside stair connecting with a small drawbridge. 

The rooms beneath the main floor were used for the 
storage of provisions and in the centre was a well, said 
to have been one hundred and five feet deep. There was 
then ample provision to resist a siege, lack of food and 
water being the only danger to be feared, inasmuch as 
the catapults and other engines of war of that period 
would be powerless against the massiveness of such a 
castle. The upper rooms are built within the walls and 
reached by narrow stairways. The main floor was pro- 
bably used by the lord of the castle with his family and 
guests; the rooms above were occupied by the ladies of 
the household, and on the same floor was a small oratory 
or chapel, hexagonal in shape and about eight feet wide. 
The top floor contained the kitchen and the sleeping- 

249 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

rooms of the garrison. The six buttresses projected 
above the level of the parapet, forming turrets, con- 
venient for defence. These have now disappeared. The 
parapet floor is still accessible, and from it a fine view is 
obtained of the surrounding country. 

The Castle of York, where Prince John is supposed to 
have feasted the nobles and leaders after the exciting 
scenes of Torquilstone, and where De Bracy announced 
to him that Richard was really in England, was the 
Norman fortress built by William the Conqueror in 
1068, some portions of which are now incorporated in 
the building known as Clifford's Tower. A substantial 
rectangular structure stands between two ancient and 
ruined turrets, which lean outward, looking as though 
the stronger building were trying to usurp the hill on 
which they stand and push his feebler brethren out of 
the way. This castle was the scene in 11 90 of a terrible 
massacre of the Jews. Two rich Jewish bankers, Joses 
and Benedict, attended the coronation of Richard I. 
In a general attack upon the Jews, Benedict was killed, 
but Joses got back to York. The house of Benedict in 
York was plundered and his wife and children mur- 
dered. Joses rallied the other Jews, who took refuge, 
with their property, in the castle. The governor ordered 
an assault, and the Jews, finding themselves unable to 
hold the citadel, set fire to the buildings, put to death 
all their relatives, and killed themselves, over five 
hundred lives being sacrificed. This incident throws 
some light upon the state of mind of the wealthy Isaac, 
who was a resident of the city of York. 

'Ivanhoe' closes with the wedding of Wilfred and 
Rowena, 'celebrated in the most august of temples, the 

250 



IVANHOE 

noble minster of York.' The cathedral as it stands 
to-day is, indeed, noble. Perhaps it cannot properly be 
called the largest in England; Winchester Cathedral is 
longer, and Lincoln's towers are higher; but in the length 
of its choir and nave, the breadth of its transepts, the 
height of the great pointed arches supporting the roof, 
and the massive grandeur and dignity of the whole, 
whether viewed from the exterior or the interior, it is 
unsurpassed by any other cathedral in England and by 
few on the continent. 

It was not in this magnificent temple, however, that 
the wedding took place, and perhaps if we could see a 
picture of the old Norman church which stood on the 
site in 1194, we might not think of it as 'a noble min- 
ster.' The church of that period was the structure 
built by the first Norman Archbishop of York, with the 
addition of the choir, erected a century later. In the 
crypt of the present cathedral some bits of the walls of 
these early buildings are still preserved. They replaced 
the first stone church, built about 633, which had super- 
seded the original wooden church, built by Eadwine, 
King of Northumbria, then the most powerful monarch 
in England. The minster was, therefore, more than five 
centuries old even in the period of 'Ivanhoe.' 

Of the characters in the novel, King Richard and his 
brother John were of course historical. Cedric and 
Athelstane were types of the Saxon nobles who still 
resented the intrusion of the Normans. Front-de-Bceuf 
represents a class of Norman noblemen who did not 
hesitate at any deed of villainy to accomplish their 
selfish purposes. Brian de Bois-Guilbert typifies the 
chivalry which professed great zeal for the Christian 

251 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

religion, but used it as a cloak to cover motives of ven- 
geance or other base purposes. Prior Aymer stands for 
the wealthy churchman and Isaac of York for the Jew- 
ish banker, upon whom all classes, kings, barons, and 
churchmen, were obliged to depend for the accomplish- 
ment of their various plans. Robin Hood, Friar Tuck, 
and the men in Lincoln Green were borrowed from the 
ballad poetry of the Middle Ages. All of these were 
introduced to perfect the picture of the conditions of 
social and political life in the reign of King Richard. 

One character only found a place in the novel for an- 
other reason. The story of Rebecca reveals an interest- 
ing incident in the life of Washington Irving. When 
the American author visited Sir Walter at Abbotsford 
a feeling of mutual respect and admiration quickly 
sprang up between them and developed into a friendly 
intimacy. In the course of their conversations, Irving 
told Sir Walter something of the character of Rebecca 
Gratz, a young woman of Jewish family, living in the 
city of Philadelphia. One of this lady's brothers was 
a warm personal friend of Irving's, who was always a 
welcome guest at their home. One of Rebecca's dearest 
friends was Matilda Hoffman, Irving's first and only 
love. This estimable young woman died at the early 
age of eighteen, tenderly nursed to the end by her friend 
Rebecca, in whose arms she expired. 

Rebecca Gratz is described as a very beautiful girl. 
'Her eyes were of exquisite shape, large, black, and lus- 
trous; her figure was graceful and her carriage was 
marked by a quiet dignity, — attractions which were 
heightened by elegant and winning manners. Gentle, 
benevolent, with instinctive refinement and innate 

252 



IVANHOE 

purity, she inspired affection among all who met her. ' 1 
Although a Jewess, Rebecca Gratz found many com- 
panions among the Christians by whom she was held in 
high esteem. She was interested in all kinds of bene- 
volent work, founded an orphan asylum and a mission 
Sabbath-School for Hebrew children, and contributed to 
many charities. 

A Christian gentleman of wealth and high social 
position fell in love with her and his feelings were 
reciprocated. But Rebecca conceived that duty de- 
manded loyalty to her religion, and her lofty con- 
scientiousness and remarkable moral courage enabled 
her to maintain her resolution. She refused to marry, in 
spite of the pain to herself and the bitter disappoint- 
ment to her lover which the self-denial involved. Her 
life was devoted to 'a long chain of golden deeds,' until 
the end came at the good old age of eighty-eight. 

Such a story could not fail to capture the sympathetic 
heart of Sir Walter, and as usual when anything 
appealed strongly to him, he wove it into a novel at the 
earliest opportunity, later writing to Irving, 'How do 
you like your Rebecca? Does the picture I have 
painted compare well with the pattern given? ' 

'Ivanhoe' marks the high-tide of Scott's literary 
success. The book instantly caught the attention of 
thousands to whom the Scottish romances had not 
appealed. It sold better than its predecessors, and 
from the day of its publication has been easily the most 
popular of the Waverley Novels. Lockhart, who, in 
common with most Scotchmen, could not help prefer- 

1 From an article by Gratz van Rensselaer, in the Century Magazine, 
September, 1882. 

253 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

ring the tales of his native land and thought 'Waver- 
ley,' 'Guy Mannering,' and 'The Heart of Midlothian' 
superior as ' works of genius,' nevertheless gave 
'Ivanhoe' the first place among all Scott's writings, 
whether in prose or verse, as a 'work of art.' Its his- 
torical value is perhaps greater than that of any of the 
others, and certainly no other author has ever given 
a picture, so graphic and yet so comprehensible, of 
'merrie England' in the days of chivalry. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

THE MONASTERY 

Scott had some strange ways of seeking relaxation from 
the strain of his work. On Christmas Day, 1814, he 
wrote Constable that he was 'setting out for Abbotsford 
to refresh the machine.' During the year he had written 
his first great novel, 'Waverley'; one of his longer 
poems, 'The Lord of the Isles'; nearly the whole of his 
'Life of Swift'; two essays for an encyclopaedia; a two- 
volume family memoir for a friend; and kept up a 
voluminous personal correspondence, — an amount of 
industry which is best described by Dominie Sampson's 
word, prodigious. Surely the 'machine' needed 'refresh- 
ment,' and it consisted in producing, in six weeks' time, 
another great novel, 'Guy Mannering'! In the same 
way, while dictating 'Ivanhoe,' in spite of severe bodily 
pain which prevented the use of his pen, he sought 
refreshment by starting another novel, 'The Monas- 
tery.' 'It was a relief,' he said, 'to interlay the scenery 
most familiar to me with the strange world for which I 
had to draw so much on imagination.' 

'The Monastery' was the first of Scott's novels in 
which the scenery is confined to the immediate vicinity 
of his own home. It is all within walking distance of 
Abbotsford and much of it had been familiar to the 
author from childhood. Melrose, or Kennaquhair, is 
only about two miles away. This little village is as 
ancient as the abbey from which it takes its name, and 

255 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

that splendid ruin dates from 1136, when the pious 
Scottish king, known as St. David, founded the monas- 
tery and granted extensive lands to the Cistercian 
Order of Monks for its maintenance. The village has 
followed the fortunes of the abbey — prospering when 
the monks prospered, and suffering the blight of war 
whenever the English kings descended upon it. Its 
present prosperity, so far as it has any, is the gift of Sir 
Walter Scott. Hawthorne, who rambled through the 
country in 1856, noted in his journal that ' Scotland — 
cold, cloudy, barren little bit of earth that it is — owes 
all the interest that the world feels in it to him.' I can- 
not endorse this view of Scotland, for it left quite the 
opposite impression upon my mind, but the last part of 
the remark is certainly true of Melrose. It bears about 
the same relation to Scotland that Stratford does to 
England. Thousands go there every year to see the 
work of art, glorious even in ruins, which represents the 
highest development of the Gothic architecture and to 
marvel at the rich carvings in stone which, after the 
lapse of nearly six hundred years, still remain as a 
monument to the patience, skill, and devotion of the 
monks of St. Mary's. But they go because the great 
Wizard of the North has thrown the glamour of his 
genius over the whole of the Border country, of which 
Melrose is the natural centre. And when they arrive, 
they find the abbey interpreted in the words of 'The 
Lay of the Last Minstrel,' which the custodians of the 
ruin, for fourscore years, have never tired of quoting. 

In the novel, no attempt is made to describe the 
beauty of the ruin. The poem had already done that to 
perfection. But the monks spring into life again, the 

256 



THE MONASTERY 

venerable ruin is transformed into a church, the monas- 
tic buildings resume their former shape, and the palace 
of their ruler is refurnished in all its original magnifi- 
cence. A fire of glowing logs gives warmth to the apart- 
ments. An oaken stand, with a roasted capon and 'a 
goodly stoup of Bourdeaux of excellent flavour,' sug- 
gests the truth of the old rhyme: — 

The monks of Melrose made fat kail 

On Fridays when they fasted, 
Nor wanted they gude beef and ale 

So lang 's their neighbours' lasted. 

In a richly carved chair before the fire sits a portly 
abbot, with round face, rosy cheeks, and good-natured, 
laughing eyes, the product of a long life of good feeding 
and indolent ease. By his side stands the sub-prior, a 
cadaverous, sharp-faced little man, with piercing grey 
eyes bespeaking a high order of intellect, his emaciated 
features testifying to rigid fastings and relentless self- 
abasement. The abuse of the monastic privileges, 
common enough at the time, is thus contrasted with the 
conscientious observance of all the rules of the order. In 
and out of the cloisters, the refectory, and the palace, 
monks in black gowns and white scapularies are con- 
tinually passing. The old ruin has been restored by the 
genius of the novelist to the life and activity of the six- 
teenth century. 

The earliest date referred to in the story is 1547, the 
year of the battle of Pinkie, when the Scottish forces 
met with a disaster exceeded only by Flodden Field. In 
this battle Simon Glendinning, a soldier fighting for the 
'Halidome' of St. Mary's, met his death. His son 
Halbert was then nine or ten years old. The story comes 

257 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

to a close when he is nineteen, which would be 1557. 
The hostility of Henry VIII had caused great anxiety to 
the abbots of Melrose long before this time and the per- 
secution reached a climax in 1545. Sir Ralph Ewers and 
Sir Brian Latoun systematically ravaged the Scottish 
Border, burning hundreds of towns, castles, and 
churches, slaughtering and imprisoning the people by 
the thousands and driving off their cattle and horses. In 
the course of their raids, they reached Melrose with a 
force of five thousand men and vented their spite on the 
beautiful old abbey. The Scots took prompt vengeance. 
They quickly raised an army, and under the leadership 
of Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch, met the English and 
defeated them with heavy losses. Both Ewers and 
Latoun were among the slain, and the monks of Mel- 
rose buried them in the abbey with great satisfaction. 
' The Monastery ' does not refer to this event, but its 
graphic picture of the unsettled state of the country 
and the consequent anxiety of the monks constitutes 
its chief value. 

North of the abbey and across the Tweed is a green 
hillside, at the base of which is a weir or dam. This is 
the place where the sacristan of St. Mary's was pitched 
out of his saddle into the stream by the 'White Lady of 
Avenel,' who dipped him in the water two or three times 
to make sure that 'every part of him had its share of 
wetting.' 

The old bridge, which the sacristan was prevented 
from crossing by the perversity of old Peter, the bridge- 
tender, was about a mile and a half up the stream. 
Such a bridge once existed, though now there are no 
traces visible. Scott used to see the foundations occa- 

258 



THE MONASTERY 

sionally when drifting down the river at night in pursuit 
of one of his favourite pastimes, spearing salmon by 
torchlight. There were three towers in the water. A 
keeper lived in the middle one and controlled the traffic 
by raising or lowering the draws at his pleasure. Those 
who refused to pay his price, or whom he did not wish 
to accommodate, might ford the stream, but at some 
stages of the water this was a perilous operation. 

The river Allan flows into the Tweed near the site of 
this bridge. It is a little mountain brook that flows, in 
serpentine course, through the valley of Glendearg. A 
mile or so up the rivulet there is a picturesque and shady 
glen called Fairy Dean. After a flood, little pieces of 
curious stones, in fantastic shapes, are often found, the 
play of the waters having transformed the fragments of 
rock into fairy cups and saucers, guns, boats, cradles, or 
whatever a childish imagination might suggest. This 
was the abode of the fairies where the little elfin folk 
held their nightly carnivals, and who knows but Queen 
Titania herself might have held her moonlight revels 
upon this very spot? At any rate, the neighbouring 
people, for centuries, by common consent, recognized 
the feudal rights of the fairy race to this little dell, and 
left them undisturbed. It must have been the abode of 
the White Lady, and no doubt stood in the author's 
mind for the secluded glen which he calls, in Celtic, 
Corrie nan Shian, meaning ' Hollow of the Fairies,' where 
Halbert Glendinning found the huge rock, the wild 
holly tree, and the spring beneath its branches. Here, 
doubtless, for no more appropriate spot can be found, 
Halbert summoned the mystic maiden with the 
words: — 

259 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Thrice to the holly brake — 

Thrice to the well: — 
I bid thee awake, 

White Maid of Avenel! 

Noon gleams in the Lake — 
Noon glows on the Fell — 

Wake thee, O wake, 
White Maid of Avenel! 



At the head of the glen there are three ruined peel- 
houses or Border towers, known as Hillslap, Colmslie, 
and Langshaw. The first of these may fairly stand for 
the original of Glendearg, the home of the Glendinnings. 
This old tower has a sculptured date on the lintel of the 
entrance which seems to indicate that it was built in 
1585 — a little too late for the story, to be sure, but 
trifles like that never worried Sir Walter. He wanted 
to place the Widow Glendinning and her two children 
in a tower suited to the ancient family connexions of 
her husband who might have been able to defend his 
secluded retreat against all comers for many years, 
had not the necessities of the time required his service 
in the wars for the defence of his country. Hillslap 
offered an excellent type of such a Border fortalice, and 
its situation at the head of the glen, well protected by the 
surrounding mountains and isolated by its remoteness 
from the ordinary lines of travel, made it suitable for 
the purposes of the tale. 

Referring to the castle of Julian Avenel, Scott, in a 
footnote, remarks that it is vain to search near Melrose 
for any such castle, but adds that in Yetholm Loch, a 
small sheet of water southeast of Kelso, there is a small 
castle on an island, connected with the mainland by a 

260 



THE MONASTERY 

causeway, but it is much smaller than Avenel. Of 
course we must take the author's word for this, and 
yet, whether he did it with conscious purpose or not, he 
succeeded in putting into his description some features 
which irresistibly suggest a castle only seven miles from 
Melrose, the tower of Smailholm, associated with the 
dearest memories of his childhood. 

Smailholm is one of the most perfect examples of the 
old feudal keeps to be found in Scotland. A very small 
pool lies on one side of the tower, but it is suggestive of 
the loch which once surrounded the entire castle, mak- 
ing it a retreat of great security. 'The surprise of the 
spectator was chiefly excited by finding a piece of water 
situated in that high and mountainous region, and the 
landscape around had features which might rather be 
termed wild, than either romantic or sublime.' It was a 
surprise to me to find even a small pool of water in such 
a locality, and I cannot help thinking that at least some 
recollections of the peculiar situation of Smailholm may 
have been in the author's mind when he wrote this 
description. 

Scott has himself mentioned a prototype of the vul- 
gar, brutal, and licentious Julian Avenel in the person 
of the Laird of Black Ormiston, a friend and confidant 
of Bothwell and one of the agents in the murder of 
Darnley. 

The concluding scene of the novel represents a sor- 
rowful procession of monks, in long black gowns and 
cowls, marching solemnly to the market-place of the 
town, where they formed a circle around 'an ancient 
cross of curious workmanship, the gift of some former 
monarch of Scotland.' This old Mercat Cross still stands 

261 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

in the centre of the market-place of Melrose. It is about 
twenty feet high and is surmounted by the figure of the 
unicorn and the arms of Scotland. It requires a vivid 
imagination to identify the unicorn, however, the rav- 
ages of time giving it more the aspect of a walrus, 
rampant. 

'The Monastery,' following so soon after Scott's 
greatest success, suffers severely by comparison with 
'Ivanhoe,' and, perhaps for this reason, was considered 
something of a failure. The cause, generally assigned 
by the critics, was twofold, or rather, may be attributed 
to two characters, which did not appeal to the public as 
Scott had expected. One of these was the 'White Lady 
of Avenel ' and the other, Sir Piercie Shaf ton. 

Scott had always manifested a fondness for ghosts, 
goblins, witches, and the supernatural. The goblin-page 
made a nuisance of himself in 'The Lay of the Last Min- 
strel' and came near spoiling the poem; Marmion had to 
fight a phantom knight, and so did Bertram Risingham, 
but in both cases a rational explanation dispelled the 
mystery; the Baron of Triermain visited a phantom cas- 
tle in the Valley of St. John; Bruce landed on the shores 
of Carrick, guided by a weird supernatural light; Fergus 
Maclvor was dismayed by the Bodach Glas, a cheerful 
sort of family ghost which always appeared when dis- 
aster was impending; the guest of the Antiquary was 
compelled to sleep in a haunted chamber; a mysterious 
fountain had a fatal influence upon the life of the Bride 
of Lammermoor; and so throughout the pages of Scott's 
poems and novels we find these strange incidents and 
phantom appearances. The real orthodox ghost only 
peeps in at you occasionally and quickly vanishes. 

262 



THE MONASTERY 

Although you may be frightened a little, you delight, 
nevertheless, in the mystery. But there is something too 
substantial about a female ghost who climbs up behind 
a man on horseback, guides him into a stream of deep 
water, and ducks him three times, meanwhile reciting 
long stanzas of poetry. And when the same ghost 
appears again and again, as though the whole plot 
depended upon her personal exertions, the constant 
exposure to the limelight causes the illusion to melt 
away. This, I fancy, is the reason the Maid of Avenel 
failed to appeal to Scott's readers. 

Sir Piercie Shafton, the Euphuist, seems in like 
manner to have been overdone. A suggestion of the 
foppery and absurdities of the coxcombs of Queen 
Elizabeth's court might have been interesting, but Sir 
Piercie remains on the stage too long and becomes a 
bore. The pedantic Baron of Bradwardine in 'Waver- 
ley' is a bore, but we like him. The garrulous Dalgetty 
is tiresome, but we could not do without him. Sir 
Piercie, on the contrary, has no redeeming traits. 

Aside from the failure of these two characters to 
please the public, the novel lacks the interest that 
attaches to all its predecessors. There is no Dandie 
Dinmont, nor Meg Merrilies, nor Dominie Sampson; no 
Jonathan Oldbuck nor Edie Ochiltree; no historical per- 
sonage of interest like Rob Roy or King Richard; no 
Jeanie Deans; no Flora Maclvor; no Die Vernon; no 
Rebecca. 

On the other hand, it has some fine pictures of the 
sturdy Scotch character, it gives a glimpse of monastic 
life in the sixteenth century, and has an historical value 
in its presentation of the conflict of cross-currents of 

263 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

thought and feeling, as they affected the people who 
lived amid the furious contentions of the Reformation. 
Father Eustace is a fine type of the able, intelligent, 
and devoted Catholic priest, and Henry Warden of the 
brave, unflinching, determined apostle of the reformed 
doctrines. 



CHAPTER XIX 

THE ABBOT 

, Scott was quick to realize the mistake in * The Monas- 
tery/ and promptly redeemed his popularity by the bold 
stroke of writing a sequel. The White Maiden was ban- 
ished along with Sir Piercie, and in their place came a 
train of new characters, well calculated to win the sym- 
pathetic approval of the public. Mary Queen of Scots 
was the chief of these, and the novelist's skilful por- 
trayal of her character made a success of 'The Abbot.' 
Roland Graeme, who proved to be one of the best of 
Scott's heroes, and Catherine Seyton, a young woman 
of charming vivacity, added not a little to the popular- 
ity of the novel. 

The scenery, at first, remains the same. The story 
opens at the Castle of Avenel, of which Sir Halbert 
Glendinning is now the knight and Mary Avenel the 
lady. Henry Warden is established there as chaplain. 
The monks are still permitted to linger in the cloisters of 
St. Mary's, and among them is Edward Glendinning, 
known as Father Ambrose, who, later, becomes the 
abbot. 

The beautiful abbey is pictured at the beginning of 
its decay. The niches have been stripped of their sculp- 
tured images, on the inside as well as the outside of the 
building. The tombs of warriors and of princes have 
been demolished. The church is strewn with confused 
heaps of broken stone, the remnants of beautifully 

265 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

carved statues of saints and angels, with lances and 
swords torn from above the tombs of famous knights of 
earlier days, and sacred relics brought by pious pilgrims. 
The disheartened monks are seen conducting their 
ceremonials in the midst of all the rubbish, scarcely 
daring to clear it away. In keeping with this picture of 
decay and ruin is the vivid presentation of the invasion 
of the sacred abbey by the irreverent mob of masquer- 
aders in grotesque costumes, led by 'the venerable 
Father Howleglas, the learned Monk of Misrule and the 
Right Reverend Abbot of Unreason.' 

The tale now leads to Edinburgh, where young 
Roland Graeme is struck with surprise as he comes, for 
the first time, into the Canongate. 'The extreme height 
of the houses, and the variety of Gothic gables, and 
battlements, and balconies ' are still surprising. Graeme 
gets involved in a street scrimmage, common enough in 
the Edinburgh of those days, and, without knowing it, 
renders service to Lord Seyton, one of the most faithful 
adherents of Queen Mary. A few minutes later he 
catches sight of Catherine Seyton as that pretty damsel 
is about to 'dive under one of the arched passages which 
afforded an outlet to the Canongate from the houses 
beneath.' Many of these arched passages may still be 
seen in the Canongate. The house of Lord Seyton into 
which Roland followed the maiden was about op- 
posite Queensbury House, near the eastern end of the 
street. 

Holyrood Palace comes into the story as the place 
where Roland was presented to the Regent Murray, an 
introduction into which Scott is believed to have woven 
some recollections of his own presentation to the Duke 

266 



THE ABBOT 

of Wellington. Although the palace has stood for many 
centuries and has been the abode of many kings, its real 
interest centres about the fortunes of Mary Queen of 
Scots. Visitors are shown the audience chamber in 
which the Queen received John Knox, and found that 
the great Reformer, unlike other men, was proof against 
the loveliness of her countenance, the charm of her man- 
ner, and the softness of her speech. Knox found, too, 
that Mary was proof against the bitterness of his 
arraignment and the violence of his denunciation. 
Opening out of the audience chamber is Queen Mary's 
bedroom, where a bed, said to be Mary's own, is care- 
fully preserved, its dingy and tattered hangings convey- 
ing little suggestion of the former richness of the crimson 
damask, with its fringe and tassels of green. A narrow 
door leads to a small dressing-closet, and another to the 
supper-room, where Mary sat with David Rizzio and 
other friends on the fatal night of February 13, 1565. 
Darnley, in a state of intoxication, burst into the room 
with a party of brutal conspirators, put his arms 
around Mary in seeming endearment, while the others 
dragged Rizzio into the audience chamber and stabbed 
him to death with their daggers. 

The introduction of Loch Leven Castle gives a new 
scene to the novel and one of great beauty and interest. 
It was partly Scott's association with the Blair Adam 
Club that led to the use of this scene and the historical 
incident associated with it. A visit of Scott and his life- 
long friends, William Clerk and Adam Ferguson, to the 
Right Honourable William Adam, in 1816, led to the 
formation of the Blair Adam Club, at the meetings of 
which Scott was a constant attendant for fifteen years. 

267 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Mr. Adam, who held the distinguished office of Lord 
Chief Commissioner of the Jury Court in Scotland, was, 
says Lockhart, ' the only man I ever knew that rivalled 
Sir Walter Scott in uniform graciousness of bonhomie 
and gentleness of humour.' In a book privately printed 
for the benefit of his own family and friends, the judge 
says: — 

The Castle of Loch Leven is seen at every turn from the 
northern side of Blair Adam. This castle, renowned and 
attractive above all others in my neighbourhood, became an 
object of much increased attention and a theme of constant 
conversation, after the author of 'Waverley' had, by his 
inimitable power of delineating character, by his creative 
poetic fancy in representing scenes of varied interest, and by 
the splendour of his romantic descriptions, infused a more 
diversified and a deeper tone of feeling into the history of 
Queen Mary's captivity and escape. 

Many little allusions to localities on the estate of Blair 
Adam and references to the virtues and manners of its 
occupants, were woven into the story, which, while they 
escape the attention of the casual reader, did not fail to 
please the genial owner. 

The castle stands on an island in Loch Leven, a pretty 
sheet of water, about three or four miles long, on the 
western border of which lies the town of Kinross. Two 
sturdy fishermen rowed us out to the island where we 
found the ruin of a square building. The tower is in 
good repair, but the remaining walls are quite ruinous. 
In one corner the room where Queen Mary was im- 
prisoned was pointed out by the guides. It is very 
small, but has windows overlooking the lake, and there 
is room on the island for a pleasant garden. Except for 

268 



THE ABBOT 

the loss of her liberty, Queen Mary might have found the 
castle a pleasant abode. 

Loch Leven Castle was the property of Sir William 
Douglas, whose wife was the mother of the Earl of 
Murray, the illegitimate son of James V. The Lady 
Douglas could be supposed to have little sympathy for 
the legitimate daughter of the king to whom she pre- 
tended to have been married. In placing Mary in the 
hands of such a custodian, the lords who opposed her 
felt reasonably secure. 

Scott gives a wonderfully dramatic picture of the 
visit of Lord Lindsay, Lord Ruthven, and Sir Robert 
Melville to the castle, and the method by which they ex- 
torted Mary's signature to deeds abdicating the throne 
in favour of her infant son and creating the Earl of 
Murray regent, and although the scene is purely ficti- 
tious, the facts of history are not distorted. Roland 
Graeme is represented as unsheathing his sword and 
discovering a hidden parchment rolled around the 
blade. It proved to be a secret message from Lord 
Seyton, advising Mary to yield to the necessity of the 
situation. The incident is based upon the fact that Sir 
Robert Melville was sent to accompany the ruffianly 
Lindsay, and his no less harsh associate Ruthven, to 
prevent violence to the Queen, and to carry, concealed 
in the scabbard of his sword, a message from her friends 
advising submission and carrying the assurance that 
deeds signed under such compulsion would not be 
legally binding when she regained her liberty. 

The escape of the Queen is told in substantial accord- 
ance with the facts, though with a variation of details 
which the license of the novelist would easily permit 

269 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

George Douglas, a younger brother of the lord of Loch 
Leven, was much impressed by the beauty of the 
Queen, and captivated by her pleasant manners and fair 
promises. He devised a plan of escape, but this was 
discovered and George was expelled from the castle by 
his brother. Another attempt was more successful. An 
inmate of the castle, called 'the Little Douglas,' had 
also felt a sympathy for the Queen. He was a lad of 
seventeen or eighteen and really played the part which 
Scott assigned to Roland Graeme. He stole the keys 
and set the prisoner at liberty in the night. Placing her 
in a boat, he paused long enough to lock the iron gates of 
the tower from the outside so that pursuit would be 
impossible, then, throwing the keys into the lake, 
rowed his passenger ashore. George Douglas, Lord 
Seyton, and other friends were waiting to receive her 
and conveyed her in triumph to Hamilton. 

An army of six thousand men was quickly assembled, 
the plan being to place the Queen safely in the fortress 
of Dumbarton, and then give battle to the Regent Mur- 
ray. The latter was too quick for the allies, however. 
He was then at Glasgow and marched at once, though 
with an inferior force, to intercept the advancing army. 
They met at Langside, now a suburb of Glasgow, and 
after a fierce struggle the Queen's forces were scattered. 
Mary herself continued her flight, until she reached the 
Abbey of Dundrennan, in the County of Kirkcudbright, 
where she spent her last night in Scotland. 

The novelist represents Queen Mary as viewing the 
battle from the Castle of Crookston, and the unfortu- 
nate lady dramatically exclaims, '0, 1 must forget much 
ere I can look with steady eyes on these well-known 

270 



THE ABBOT 

scenes! I must forget the days which I spent here as the 
bride of the lost — the murdered ' — Here Mary Flem- 
ing interrupts to explain to the Abbot that in this castle 
' the Queen held her first court after she was married to 
Darnley.' 

Mary could not have witnessed the battle of Langside 
from Crookston, unless, indeed, she had had, in the lan- 
guage of Sam Weller, instead of eyes, ' a pair o' patent 
double million magnifyin' gas microscopes of hextra 
power,' for Langside is at least four miles away and the 
contour of the country would make such a view impos- 
sible. She really watched it from a knoll near the old 
Castle of Cathcart, which has since been known as 
Court Knowe. Scott admitted the error, but did not 
much regret it, as Crookston seemed the place best 
suited to the dramatic requirements of the tale, because 
of Mary's former association with the castle. Here 
again the facts are against him. Crookston was the 
property of the Earl of Lennox, Darnley's father, but 
Darnley himself never lived there, except possibly as a 
boy, before he went to France at the age of sixteen. It 
seems to be certain to those who have investigated the 
facts that after his return he had no opportunity of 
going there and that he and Queen Mary could not have 
visited the place together, either before or after their 
marriage. 

i Nevertheless, Scott was wise to let the incident remain 
as he wrote it, for 'The Abbot' is not a work of history, 
but a romance. 



CHAPTER XX 

KENILWORTH 

The successful introduction of Mary Queen of Scots as 
the central figure of 'The Abbot' resulted, not only in 
repairing the reputation which had been somewhat 
damaged by its predecessor, but in suggesting the theme 
of a new novel which was to achieve a popularity second 
only to 'Ivanhoe.' The desire to portray, in the form of 
romance, the great rival of Queen Mary, was perhaps 
irresistible, particularly in view of the fact that it meant 
a new opportunity to reach that English audience 
which had given to 'Ivanhoe' so cordial a reception. 
Constable, the publisher, was of course delighted to have 
a new English novel and particularly one in which 
Queen Elizabeth was to be an important figure. With 
characteristic presumptuousness he argued that it 
should be a story of the Armada. Scott, however, had 
been enchanted in his youth by a ballad of the Scotch 
poet, Mickle, entitled 'Cumnor Hall,' and particularly 
by its first stanza: — 

The dews of summer night did fall; 

The moon, sweet regent of the sky, 
Silver 'd the walls of Cumnor Hall, , 

And many an oak that grew thereby. 

He insisted, therefore, in spite of his adviser, upon 
taking the theme of the ballad for his subject and would 
even have called the novel 'Cumnor Hall.' In deference 
to Constable, however, he accepted the title, Kenil- 

272 



KENILWORTH 

worth/ although John Ballantyne growled a little at a 
name which he thought suggested 'something worthy of 
a kennel.' 

Here, then, were the determining points of the new 
novel, namely, a favourite poem concerning the mar- 
riage of the Earl of Leicester to a lady whom he kept 
concealed at Cumnor Hall, the desire to sketch, in a 
romantic way, the character of Queen Elizabeth, and the 
opportunity to secure a dramatic climax by confronting 
the Queen with the wife of her favourite courtier, in the 
splendid castle of the latter at Kenilworth. 

Cumnor is one of those lovely little villages in the 
Midlands of England where Father Time employs his 
talents as an artist, softening the outlines of the stone 
walls and fences with graceful mantles of dark green ivy 
and imparting richer and deeper shades of brown to the 
old thatched roofs of the cottages. 

We saw few evidences of activity on the part of the 
inhabitants, and reached the conclusion that Cumnor, 
in Walter Scott's time, and even in the days of the Earl 
of Leicester, could not have been very different from its 
present aspect. 

We did not ruin our reputation as travellers by failing 
to 'wet a cup at the bonny Black Bear,' for that 'excel- 
lent inn of the old stamp,' if indeed it ever existed, has 
disappeared as effectually as its famous landlord, Giles 
Gosling. Its prototype, bearing the sign of the 'Bear 
and Ragged Staff,' formerly stood opposite the church, 
but its bar-room became objectionable to the vicar and, 
by what a local writer calls 'an impious act of vandal- 
ism,' the inn was destroyed. 

Cumnor Place has likewise disappeared. The site 

273 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

where it stood appears to be a comparatively small piece 
of land, near the street, but well covered with large 
trees. It was not an extensive park with formal walks 
and avenues, nor was the house itself so large or high as 
the structure described in the novel. It was a single- 
story building or series of buildings, forming an enclo- 
sure about seventy feet long and fifty feet wide. It was 
built about 1350 as a country residence for the Abbot of 
Abingdon and as a sanitarium for the monks. After 
two centuries its use by the monastery ceased and 
Cumnor Place passed into the hands of the Court physi- 
cian, George Owen, who leased it to Anthony Foster. 
As the servant of Lord Robert Dudley, Foster received 
into his house the ill-fated Amy Robsart, whom that 
gentleman had married in 1550. The marriage was not 
secret, but was celebrated in the presence of the young 
King, Edward VI, and his Court. It had been arranged 
by Dudley's father, John, Earl of Warwick and Duke 
of Northumberland, who seems to have had a fondness 
for match-making, of the kind which promised a profit. 
He managed to marry his fourth son, Guildford Dudley, 
to Lady Jane Grey, a great-granddaughter of Henry 
VII. In the last two years of the reign of Edward VI, 
Northumberland was virtually the ruler of England. 
He induced the King to execute a will, disinheriting his 
two sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, who were the legal 
heirs to the crown, and naming Lady Jane Grey as his 
successor. The reign of this unfortunate lady, who 
never desired the throne, lasted but nine days. The 
rightful Queen, Mary, was restored by the people, and 
Northumberland, like his father before him, was be- 
headed in the Tower. His son, Guildford, with Jane 

274 



KENILWORTH 

Grey, his wife, suffered the same penalty a year later, 
as the result of another revolt, in which the lady, at 
least, had no share. 

Robert Dudley came near falling a victim to the same 
fate as his father and grandfather. He took up arms 
against Queen Mary, was sent to the Tower and con- 
demned to death. But the Queen pardoned him and 
made him Master of the Ordnance. On the accession of 
Elizabeth he became Master of the Horse, and there- 
after rose rapidly in the royal favour. Elizabeth made 
him a Knight of the Garter, bestowed upon him the 
Castle of Kenilworth, the lordship of Denbigh and other 
rich lands in Warwickshire and Wales. In 1564 the 
Queen made him Earl of Leicester, and recommended 
him (perhaps not seriously) as a possible husband of 
Mary Queen of Scots. The University of Oxford made 
him their chancellor and the King of France conferred 
upon him the order of St. Michael. He reached the cul- 
mination of the high honours which Elizabeth and others 
crowded upon him, in the appointment as Lieutenant- 
General of the army mustered to meet the Spanish 
invasion, in the year of the great Armada, 1588. 

This was the outward show, and it was brilliant 
enough; but the Earl was like a worm-eaten apple — 
fair enough to look upon, but rotten to the core — and 
his private life was thoroughly contemptible. The mar- 
riage to Amy Robsart in 1550 was not a happy one. She 
was never a countess, for Dudley did not become Earl of 
Leicester until four years after her death. After the 
favours of Elizabeth began to be showered upon him, 
Dudley had good reason for concealing this marriage, 
for the Queen soon began to show a longing to make him 

275 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

her royal husband. In 1560, two years after the acces- 
sion of Elizabeth, the dead body of Amy was found at 
the foot of the stairs at Cumnor. All the servants had 
gone to a neighbouring fair and apparently Anthony 
Foster was the only person besides Amy at home on that 
day. It was given out that Amy had accidentally fallen 
downstairs and broken her neck. She was ostentatiously 
buried in the Church of St. Mary the Virgin in Oxford, 
though Lord Dudley was not present at the funeral nor 
did he again visit Cumnor. 

More than twenty years later a pamphlet was pub- 
lished, anonymously, under the title 'Leicester's Com- 
monwealth,' in which the Earl was bitterly attacked as 
an atheist and a traitor as well as a man of infamous 
character. He was openly accused of the murder of his 
wife, and there were not wanting many evidences seem- 
ing to corroborate this view. It was alleged that efforts 
to poison her were made, by direction of the Earl. That 
Leicester was not incapable of such an act is indicated 
by the circumstances of his own death. The tradition is 
that he gave his wife (the third one) a bottle of medicine 
to be used for faintness. The lady kept it, unused, and 
later, not knowing it to be poison, administered a dose 
to her husband, with a fatal result. This lady was the 
widow of Walter, Earl of Essex, with whom the Earl 
of Leicester was carrying on an intrigue before her 
husband's death. There was a quarrel and Essex died 
suddenly, under some suspicion of poison. Leicester's 
secret marriage with the widow led to serious accusa- 
tions against him. According to the author of 'Leices- 
ter's Commonwealth,' when the Earl fell in love with 
Lady Douglas Sheffield (who became his second wife), 

276 



KENILWORTH 

her husband suddenly died under mysterious circum- 
stances. Leicester had in his employ an Italian physi- 
cian who was a skilful compounder of poisons. It was 
said that his cunning and skill enabled him to cause a 
person to die with the symptoms of any disease he might 
choose, or to administer a poison so that the victim 
would expire at whatever hour he might appoint. These 
weird tales no doubt suggested something of the char- 
acter of the fraudulent alchemist and astrologer, Alasco. 

The stair at the foot of which Amy Robsart's body 
was found was a narrow winding flight, something like a 
corkscrew. It has been pointed out that Amy would 
have had considerable difficulty in hurling herself head- 
long around the twists and turns of such a staircase 
with enough force to break her neck. Without definite 
knowledge of the facts, the most reasonable supposition 
is that Lord Dudley, having a motive for the crime and 
being a man of unscrupulous character, would not hesi- 
tate to order it committed. His grandfather had been 
the agent of Henry VII in the infamous extortions which 
gave that sovereign an enormous fortune; his father had 
not hesitated to risk the lives of his son and an innocent 
lady to accomplish his own treasonable purposes, besides 
directly causing the death of the Duke of Somerset, and 
indirectly bringing about the execution of the Duke's 
brother, Lord Seymour. It is therefore not unreason- 
able to suppose that the scion of this ambitious family, 
who was himself cherishing no less bold a project than 
his own marriage with the Queen, should willingly give 
orders to remove the one great obstacle in his path. 

The great festivities at Kenilworth occurred in 1575. 
Amy Robsart had been dead fifteen years. The Earl of 

277 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Leicester was none the less entangled, however, for he 
was at the time married to Lady Sheffield, who strongly- 
maintained the validity of the marriage, though it was 
denied by the Earl and concealed from the Queen. At 
the same time, also, the intrigue with the Countess of 
Essex was in progress. From this it will be seen that 
although Scott departed from the facts of history in 
bringing poor Amy to Kenilworth, he nevertheless gave 
a true picture of the Earl of Leicester's embarrassment 
in the presence of his Queen. Scott softens the black- 
hearted villainy of the Earl, by making him an unwilling 
victim of his own ambition, duped into deeds of infamy 
by the determination of the conscienceless Richard 
Varney. He admits that he preferred to make the Earl 
'rather the dupe of villains than the unprincipled author 
of their atrocities,' because in the latter capacity, he 
would have been a character too disgustingly wicked for 
the purposes of fiction. 

According to Scott's account, the unfortunate Amy, 
after falling completely into the toils of Varney, was 
carried back to Cumnor Place, and lodged in a tower 
room at the top of the building. A gallery, arranged by a 
secret contrivance to be used as a drawbridge, which, 
when dropped, would cut off all access to the chamber, 
was the only means of entrance or exit. After Amy had 
entered the chamber, Varney and Foster withdrew the 
supports of the bridge in such manner that the slightest 
weight would cause it to fall. Varney then reached the 
consummation of his villainy by imitating the whistle of 
Leicester. Amy, deceived by the signal and eager to 
meet her Lord, rushed upon the bridge and fell to the 
deepest vault of the castle. The method of the real 

278 



KENILWORTH 

Amy's death is not definitely known, but it was probably 
by no such elaborate invention. She was doubtless 
strangled in her room and her body carried to the foot of 
the stairs to suggest an accidental death. 

Anthony Foster lies buried in Cumnor Church, which 
stands on land adjoining the site of Cumnor Place, near 
the entrance to the village on the road from Oxford. It is 
one of those stone churches, with square, substantial 
towers and ivy-clad walls, which add to the charm of the 
landscape throughout the length and breadth of Eng- 
land, as though she intended thereby to express both 
the beauty and the solidity of her religion. 

The Foster tomb is an elaborate monument of grey 
marble, within the altar rail, and is easily the most 
noteworthy feature of the interior of the church. Two 
engraved brass plates represent the family at prayers, 
and beneath is a long inscription in Latin, indicating 
that Anthony Foster was a distinguished gentleman of 
good birth, skilled in the arts of music and horticulture, 
a good linguist and renowned for charity, benevolence, 
arid religious fidelity. Looking upon this elaborate 
memorial, one cannot escape the conviction that Tony 
Foster was either a greatly maligned saint or the parent 
of a family of hypocrites. If the intention of those who 
composed the inscription was to convince the world of 
his innocence, they could not have been expected to 
foresee that, for every person who should read and 
understand the epitaph, ten thousand would be led to 
a perception of Foster's real character through the pen 
of a Scottish novelist, but for whom few of us would 
ever have known the sad story of the Lady of Cumnor 
Hall. 

279 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

As for the Earl of Leicester, a more truthful epitaph 
exists, not indeed carved upon stone, but preserved in 
the Collections of Drummond of Hawthornden. It 
reads : — 

Here lies a valiant warrior, 
Who never drew a sword; 
Here lies a noble courtier, 

Who never kept his word; 
Here lies the Erie of Leister, 
Who govern'd the estates; 
Whom the earth could never living love, 
And the just Heaven now hates. 

The escape of Amy Robsart from Cumnor Place was 
achieved through the aid of Wayland Smith, a black- 
smith, pedler, and strolling juggler, who had picked up 
from a former master some knowledge of medicine 
which he employed to good advantage. There was a 
legend current in Berkshire of a mysterious smith, who 
lived among the rocks and replaced lost horseshoes for a 
fee of sixpence, feeling offended if more were offered. 
Scott used this tale as the basis of his story of Wayland 
Smith. The idea of having his smithy in a cave may 
have been suggested by just such a place in Gilmerton, 
a village on the outskirts of Edinburgh, with which 
Scott must have been familiar. I had no difficulty in 
finding it. It is an artificial cavern, with many ramifica- 
tions, and as the light can enter only from the door at 
the head of a stone stairway, its farther corners are ex- 
tremely dark. Near the entrance is a blacksmith's 
forge. In a small and dark alcove opposite is an oblong 
stone, evidently intended as a dining-table. A rough 
shelf or ledge, cut out of the stone partition, served as a 
bench at meal-times. Any of the dark corners could be 

280 



KENILWORTH 

used as sleeping-rooms. The cave was probably used by 
thieves or smugglers as a convenient hiding-place. 

Amy's journey from Cumnor Village, four miles west 
of Oxford, to Kenilworth, in the centre of Warwickshire, 
was a ride of about fifty miles. Perhaps the Countess's 
mental condition would not permit her to enjoy it and 
doubtless the country then was wild and the roads 
rough; but the route to-day would be a delightful one, 
especially that part of it which passes through Warwick- 
shire with its 'hedgerows of unmarketable beauty.' 

As they approached the old town of Warwick, 
travelling by circuitous paths to avoid the crowds then 
journeying to witness the festivities at Kenilworth, Amy 
and her humble guide, the blacksmith, passed through 
some of the most beautiful country in England. But 
they were obliged to avoid what to-day forms the grand 
climax of interest to the tourist, the magnificent Castle 
of Warwick. This was the resting-place of Queen Eliza- 
beth on the day preceding her triumphal progress to 
Kenilworth. In those days it was the seat of Ambrose 
Dudley, a brother to the Earl of Leicester and the third 
son of the notorious John Dudley. 

There was never a time, say the local antiquaries, 
back as far as the reign of the celebrated King Arthur, 
when Warwick did not have its Earls. The most 
renowned of these was Guy, a great warrior supposed to 
stand nine feet high, among whose exploits were the 
killing of 'a Saracen giant, a wild boar, a dun cow, and a 
green dragon.' After a life devoted to these pleasant 
diversions, he retired to Guy's Cliffe, a retreat near 
Warwick, famed for its natural beauty, where he lived 
as a hermit until his death. The real building of the 

281 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

castle began when the Normans took possession, Wil- 
liam the Conqueror granting the vast estate, including 
the castle and the town, to Henry de Newburgh, the first 
Earl of Warwick. In the fifteenth century it came into 
the possession of Richard Neville, the famous 'King- 
Maker.' Since that time many improvements have been 
made, especially in the spacious grounds, which now 
make a splendid park, with well-kept lawns and paths, 
stately trees, formal gardens with yews fantastically 
trimmed, and a profusion of flowers. 

The entrance road, cut through solid rock, looks as if 
carved out of soft moss, so thickly does the ivy cling 
to the walls. Trees of varied foliage overarch the path, 
and near the entrance the edges are bordered by nar- 
row lines of flowers. At the end of this delightful 
avenue a sharp turn to the left brought us in front of 
the great Castle. On the right is Guy's Tower, rising 
one hundred and twenty-eight feet high and having 
walls ten feet thick. On the left is Caesar's Tower, built by 
the Normans eight hundred years ago and still firm as the 
rock upon which it stands. The two are joined by an 
ivy-covered wall in the centre of which is a great gate 
between two towers. Passing through this gateway we 
entered the spacious court. Directly opposite is the 
mound, or keep, almost completely covered from base to 
summit with trees and shrubs, over the tops of which the 
towers and battlements peep out. On the right are two 
unfinished towers, one of them begun by Richard III, 
the whole side of the quadrangle forming a massive 
line of ramparts and embattled walls. On the left is the 
great mansion, occupied for centuries by the Earls of 
Warwick. The square formed by these huge stone build- 

282 



KENILWORTH 

ings is beautiful in its simplicity — a wide expanse of 
lawn, its rich velvet green broken only by the white 
gravel walks. To see the interior of the castle we were 
compelled to join a party of tourists, and march in 
solemn procession through the rooms of state, while our 
guide, an old soldier with a Cockney accent, loquaciously 
explained that his 'hobject' in telling us about the 
'hearls' in this room was to prepare us to appreciate the 
'hearls' in the next! This agony over, we departed by 
the^road^ which leads across the Avon, where we were 
rewarded by a superb view of the castle from the 
bridge. 

The next day we were at Kenilworth. It requires the 
exercise of a vivid imagination to walk among the ruins 
and trace the progress of Scott's story, but we found it 
a delightful study. We entered by the little wicket gate, 
next to the mansion known as the Gatehouse, erected by 
Dudley in 1570 as the chief entrance to the castle. 
Walking south, across the outer court, we came to the 
ancient entrance in the southeast angle known as 
Mortimer's Tower. From this point an embankment 
stretched to the southeast for about one hundred and 
fifty yards. It was eighteen yards wide and twenty feet 
high. Besides serving its original purpose of a dam, to 
hold back the waters of a great lake covering one hun- 
dred and eleven acres, this bank of earth made an ad- 
mirable tilt-yard. At the extreme end of the embank- 
ment was the Gallery Tower, containing a spacious 
room from which the ladies could witness the tourna- 
ments. A wall eight feet high and eighty-five feet long 
is all that remains of this structure. It was built by 
Henry III in the thirteenth century and reconstructed 

283 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

by the Earl of Leicester in preparation for the great 
festivities. 

Here Amy presented herself under strange circum- 
stances. As the wife of the great Earl of Leicester, the 
magnificent castle was her own and all its army of serv- 
ants, and the vast crowd of sight-seers, could they 
have recognized their countess, would have bowed in 
humble reverence and have delighted to execute her 
slightest wish. But she came unknown and unrespected, 
not as the honoured Countess, but as 'the bale of 
woman's gear' belonging to a blacksmith, disguised as a 
juggler. At the Gallery Tower the two strange compan- 
ions were halted by a giant porter, and gained admission 
only by the intercession of the mischievous little imp 
called Flibbertigibbet. They traversed the length of the 
tilt-yard, and passing through Mortimer's Tower, came 
in front of the splendid buildings, all with doors and 
gates wide open as a sign of unlimited hospitality. 

On their right stood the stately Caesar's Tower, a fine 
specimen of the military architecture of the Normans, 
built about 1170 to 1180, and still the best-preserved 
portion of the ruins. On their left was the great 
'Leicester's Building,' erected in honour of the occasion 
for the accommodation of the Queen. It reached a 
height of ninety-three feet and was ninety feet long and 
fifty feet wide. The walls are thin, however, and al- 
though the most recent in date of all the important 
parts of the castle, this structure has crumbled into 
ruins to such an extent that it can be preserved only by 
constant attention. 

Between Caesar's Tower and Leicester's Building, and 
joining the two, Amy and her guide saw a stately edifice, 

284 



KENILWORTH 

then known as King Henry VIII's Lodgings, because it 
was used by that monarch on the occasion of his visits to 
the castle. The portion on the left, immediately adjoin- 
ing Leicester's Building, was called Dudley's Lobby. 
No vestige of these structures, which originally formed 
the eastern side of a magnificent quadrangle, can now 
be seen. 

Passing through an open gateway between Caesar's 
Tower and King Henry's Lodgings, the Countess entered 
the Inner Court. On the right, and in the rear of 
Caesar's Tower, she could see the great kitchens, then a 
busy part of the establishment, but now showing little 
more than the remains of a huge fireplace and a thick 
wall from which project a broken arch or two. On the 
left were the White Hall, now entirely destroyed, and 
next to it the Presence Chamber, which had a fine oriel 
window looking into the court. Directly in front Amy 
could see the 'Great Hall' in which her princely hus- 
band had made lavish preparations to entertain the 
Queen with unprecedented extravagance. It was built 
in the fourteenth century by John of Gaunt, son of 
Edward III, who took up his residence at the castle on 
the death of his father, and spent the remainder of his 
life in adding to its magnificence. The hall was ninety 
feet long and forty-five feet wide. The floor has disap- 
peared, but the remains of the pillars and arches which 
once supported it may still be seen. The Great Hall 
was lighted by large and very high windows, set in deep 
recesses, the outlines of which are still well preserved. 
The remains of two large fireplaces, one on each side, 
may still be seen. At the southern end was a dais, upon 
which was the Throne of State, with crimson canopy of 

285 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

richly embroidered velvet. At the opposite end was a 
minstrel gallery for the musicians. From the centre of 
the roof hung a chandelier of brass, shaped like an eagle, 
its spreading wings supporting six human figures, each 
of which carried a pair of branches containing huge 
candles. The tables, chairs, cushions, carpets, and 
silken tapestries were all of the costliest workmanship. 
It is stated that the Earl of Leicester spent £60,000 
upon this lavish entertainment, a sum which, to-day, 
would be better represented by half a million. 

Amy and her escort were not at liberty to view this 
regal magnificence. They proceeded across the court to 
a tower at the northwestern angle, which was doubtless 
intended for a prison, judging from the thickness of the 
walls and the small size of the rooms. It was called, for 
this reason, the Strong Tower, though Scott's name 
for it is Mervyn's Tower. During the Elizabethan fes- 
tivities it was used for the accommodation of guests. 
Here we must leave Amy for the present and go back to 
trace the movements of Elizabeth. 

The Queen approached by way of the Gallery Tower, 
heralded by the roll of drums, the blare of trumpets, the 
roar of cannon, and the tumultuous shouts of a vast 
multitude. Two hundred thick waxen torches, each 
borne by a horseman, cast a glare of light upon the 
cavalcade. The Queen, mounted upon a milk-white 
horse and clad in gorgeous raiment, blazing with jewels, 
was accompanied by the Earl of Leicester, 'glittering 
like a golden image with jewels and cloth of gold.' He 
rode a jet-black horse, renowned as one of the most 
splendid chargers in Europe. Both horse and rider 
seemed perfectly formed to grace an occasion so glorious. 

286 



KENILWORTH 

A great procession of the most distinguished noble- 
men, the ablest statesmen, and the proudest knights of 
England followed the Queen, together with the ladies of 
the Court, famed for splendour and beauty and arrayed 
in garments only a little less magnificent than those of the 
Queen herself. Passing upon the bridge or dam which 
stretched between the gallery and Mortimer's Tower, 
the royal procession paused to witness a gorgeous spec- 
tacular performance on the lake. Then, entering the 
Base Court, they moved through various pageants to 
the Inner Court, and came at length to the Great Hall, 
where the Queen was handed to the Throne by the Earl 
of Leicester. 

The Pleasance was an irregular-shaped enclosure, 
visible to the west from Mervyn's Tower and connecting 
with a rectangular section on the north known as the 
garden. The latter had a terrace along the castle wall, 
ten feet high and twelve feet wide, covered with grass 
and decorated with obelisks, spheres, and stone bears. 
At each end was an arbour of trees and fragrant flowers. 
The garden was intersected by walks or alleys, each of 
which had, in the middle, a square pilaster, fifteen feet 
high, surmounted by an orb. In the centre of the 
garden was a fountain of white marble, its pedestal 
carved with allegorical subjects and surmounted by two 
Atlantes, back to back, holding a ball, from which 
streams of water poured into the basin. At the side of 
the terrace was a large aviary, well filled with birds. 

This was the scene of the dramatic climax toward 
which the novel trends, where Queen Elizabeth finally 
confronts Amy Robsart and begins to unravel the whole 
story of Leicester's duplicity. 

287 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Aside from their associations with the novel, the ruins 
of Kenilworth seem to exert a strong fascination. It is 
as though Nature were reasserting herself. A thousand 
years ago the domain was untouched by the hand of 
man. Then came kings and conquerors, who replaced 
the pristine beauty with artificial structures. Stately 
halls and palaces sprang into existence. Their inner 
walls were hung with the costliest of silks. Their floors 
were covered with the richest carpets from the looms of 
the Orient. Chairs, stools, tables, and bedsteads of 
elaborate workmanship, gorgeously covered with lace 
and embroidered with cloth of gold; paintings; musical 
instruments; curiously wrought plate, of silver and 
mother-of-pearl; everything, indeed, that the handi- 
craft of the times could fashion and the wealth of its 
owners could buy, was brought to the castle in mute 
testimonial of man's conception of beauty. But these 
things passed. Kings and queens no longer made the 
castle their home, nor honoured it with even a brief 
visit. The people seized the government and, jealous 
lest royalty should again find shelter there, demolished 
the costly buildings. For the sake of a few pounds of 
lead, the roofs were torn away and sold. The artificial 
dam which backed up the waters of the great lake was 
cut and the waters flowed once more in their natural 
channels. Nature again assumed control. The formal 
gardens became a green pasture. The spacious courts 
which had been worn hard by the iron hoofs of countless 
steeds became soft again with a covering of deep and 
velvety grass. The proud war-horses vanished and in 
their place the gentle sheep appeared. The frightful 
scars on the face of the ruined buildings were concealed 

288 



KENILWORTH 

beneath a rich cloak of deep-green ivy. Wall-flowers 
sprang out of the broken crevices below the arches. 

All is peaceful, all is still. Nature has brought to the 
castle her own conception of beauty, and once more 
reigns supreme. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE PIRATE 

The Shetland and Orkney Islands, seen from an aero- 
plane at great height on a calm day, would resemble, 
I fancy, two handf uls of gravel thrown upon a horizontal 
sheet of window-glass. When I was a boy they meant 
little to me except a few black specks at the top of the 
map of Great Britain. Upon examining a larger map, an 
active lad might fancy that it would be great fun to skip 
from one island to another, or to play tag, leaping over 
the numerous indentations in the coast. The Shetland 
group is broken into about one hundred islands, stretch- 
ing north and south for seventy miles, but the total land 
surface is only five hundred and fifty-one square miles, 
or less than half the area of the State of Rhode Island. 
The Orkney group, lying fifty miles farther south, is 
even smaller, its fifty-six islands containing only three 
hundred and seventy-five square miles. 

Upon closer acquaintance, however, the islands do 
not seem so diminutive. Great rugged cliffs tower per- 
pendicularly to enormous heights above the sea-level. 
Huge broken fragments of rock form gigantic towers, or 
stacks, rising out of the sea to a height of hundreds of 
feet. One of the most picturesque of these, the Old Man 
of Hoy, would tower above the dome of St. Peter's in 
Rome. Our small boy, standing on the edge of one of 
these cliffs, looking down upon the ocean, boiling and 
seething through strange caverns and natural arches, 

290 



THE PIRATE 

five hundred feet below, would quickly forget his desire 
to leap to the nearest island. The wildness of the scene 
is accentuated by the screaming of thousands of cormo- 
rants, guillemots, and gulls, mingling with the roar of 
the sea and the mournful soughing of the wind. 

We sailed into the Sound of Bressay, the harbour of 
Lerwick, at twelve o'clock on a Saturday night in June. 
It was still light enough to see plainly, for in these re- 
gions the summer sun has to rise so early in the morning 
that he does not think it worth while to go to bed. Ex- 
pecting to land at the wharf of some quiet little seaport 
town, we were astonished at the sight which the twilight 
revealed. A forest of masts crowded the sound, which 
is here a mile wide. It was at the height of the herring- 
fishing, and nearly a thousand vessels had arrived to 
land their fish and enable their crews to spend Sunday 
on shore, for these fishermen observe the Sabbath, 
piously or otherwise, as a day of rest. All the remainder 
of that night and all day Sunday the stone pavements of 
Lerwick resounded to the clatter of wooden shoes worn 
by the Dutch fishermen. These Dutchmen are largely 
responsible for the importance of Lerwick, having dis- 
covered many years ago that it would be a convenient 
centre for the curing and shipping of herring. Other na- 
tions are also represented, particularly Norway, Sweden, 
Germany, and France, while the native Shetlanders 
still retain a portion of the trade, though relatively a 
small one. Besides filling the harbour, the vessels were 
crowded along the quays, five or six deep, so that 
the crews of late arrivals could reach the shore only by 
crossing the decks of several other ships. As soon as 
possible after a boat arrives, its cargo is auctioned off at 

291 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

the Fishmarket, after which it proceeds to one of the 
curing stations. Nearly all the vessels were 'steam- 
drifters,' which have superseded the old sailing-boats. 
These drifters usually carry a crew of ten men. Their 
engines are capable of ten knots an hour, sometimes more. 
As it often happens that profitable shoals of fish cannot 
be found without travelling at least a hundred miles, the 
advantage over the old sailing-ships is apparent. 

Crowds of people flock to Lerwick in the season to 
look for employment in the curing establishments. On 
the little steamer which conveyed us thither, we no- 
ticed, in various out-of-the-way corners of the deck, 
what seemed to be piles of black and brown rags. They 
were there when we came on board at Aberdeen, and 
remained nearly all the next day. They turned out to 
be women, huddling together to keep warm, and covered 
only by their thick dresses and a few old shawls. They 
belonged to a class known by the not very pleasing, but 
thoroughly descriptive, name of gutters, and were making 
their annual trip to Lerwick to spend the season in the 
great curing establishments. These sturdy women be- 
come very expert. Each fish is eviscerated with two 
quick motions of the knife, assisted by the thumb and 
fingers, the process continuing for long hours, at the 
rate of about two dozen of herring a minute. 

Lerwick, the capital of the Shetland Islands, is a town 
of picturesque appearance. When it was built there were 
no carts in the islands, and no occasion for any, for there 
were no roads. A long zigzag street runs the length of the 
town, near the shore, and is the main business thorough- 
fare. A century ago it would have been impossible to 
drive an ordinary wagon through its narrow and awk- 

292 



THE PIRATE 

ward turnings. Now the buildings are sufficiently altered 
to admit the passage of teams, but in many places, when 
a vehicle passes, the pedestrians must step into the 
nearest doorways. The town is built on a hillside, so 
that the cross-streets are steep lanes, alternating with 
short flights of stairs. They have rough pavements, and 
usually a rail is placed along the buildings for the safety 
of the pedestrians in icy weather. The main thorough- 
fare, varying in width from ten to twenty-five feet, is 
paved with flagging and its stone buildings, though small 
and of many different shapes, have a substantial look. 
Strolling through the streets of Lerwick, one might esti- 
mate the population at about five thousand; looking 
out over the harbour on Sunday morning he would be 
inclined to change the figure to twenty times that num- 
ber; but again looking seaward on Monday afternoon, 
when the fishing fleet has disappeared, he would doubt- 
less revert to his original estimate. 

The men of the islands are nearly all fishermen. They 
work hard in the season, which lasts from June to Sep- 
tember, and spend their money, during the long dark days 
of winter, in various amusements. Some maintain small 
farms of five or ten acres each, known as crofts, where 
they raise a few cattle and sheep. Only about one sixth 
of the land is under cultivation, and of this about three 
fourths is pasture land. The soil and climate of the Shet- 
lands is decidedly unfavourable to agriculture. The 
women look after the cattle, till the soil in their small 
kail-yards, or gardens, bring in the winter supply of peat, 
and attend to all the duties of housekeeping. In the 
intervals of their busy lives, they knit shawls and other 
garments, out of wool which they card and spin them- 

293 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

selves. Indeed, they knit nearly all the time. It is not 
uncommon to see them walking along the roads or across 
the moors, with heavy baskets of peat on their backs, 
the knitting-needles clicking busily, as if every woman 
had been born with these implements in her hands. 

On the morning after our arrival we set out to discover 
the scenes of 'The Pirate.' Not knowing what changes 
had occurred since Scott's visit to the islands in 1814, 
I was not sure whether I should be obliged to catch a 
Shetland pony upon which to travel or make up my mind 
to walk the twenty-seven miles between Lerwick and 
Sumburgh Head, over a roadless country of rocks and 
mountains, morasses, and quagmires. It was a delight, 
therefore, to learn not only that there was a good road 
all the way, but that Lerwick now boasted the posses- 
sion of an automobile, the only one on the islands. I 
lost no time in hiring the car, with a chauffeur who said 
he 'knew the road,' though he afterwards confessed he 
had never been over it. When he reached the moun- 
tainous regions, where the road dodges in and out 
around a bewildering succession of short curves, along 
the edges of cliffs from which we could look down upon 
rugged rocks or into the lakes and voes a hundred feet 
below, speeding the machine as though he were on level 
ground and familiar with every foot of it, he gave us a 
thrill or two at every turn. 

We started out in the general direction taken by Mor- 
daunt Mertoun, when he left the comfortable home of 
Magnus Troil and his two pretty daughters, Minna and 
Brenda, to return to the forlorn habitation of his father 
at Jarlshof . There was just enough strong wind, with 
occasional dashes of rain, to suggest the storm which 

294 



THE PIRATE 

Mordaunt faced. But he had to find his way around the 
edges of the numerous inland lakes and voes by a kind 
of instinct, having no path to follow. We travelled, on 
the contrary, over a good hard road, one of the improve- 
ments of the last half-century. Most of the people whom 
we passed had never seen an automobile. They not only 
hastily gave us the road, but usually climbed high up on 
the adjacent banks, sometimes dragging their pony-carts 
after them. One old man, when he saw us coming, hastily 
took his horse out of the shafts, and rushed up the side 
of the hill with the animal, to a safe distance of a hun- 
dred yards before he dared look back. The horse gazed 
upon us in mild-eyed curiosity, but the man's expression 
of terror suggested that he might have seen old Noma 
of the Fitful Head herself and her leering, sneering, 
grinning, and goggling dwarf, Nick Strumpfer, flying 
along in a vehicle of the Devil's own invention. Though 
not particularly grateful for the implied compliment, we 
were obliged to accept some such explanation of the 
fact, which became more and more apparent, that the 
men and women feared us far more than did their horses. 
At one point we stopped to watch some women gather- 
ing peat. Only the wealthy can afford to import coal 
and there is no wood on the islands, because the fierce 
winds and rocky soil prevent the growth of trees. The 
universal fuel for the poor is therefore peat, which seems 
to have been providentially provided. For a fee of half- 
a-crown a year, or in some cases a little more, paid to some 
large landowner, each family may take a winter's supply. 
Every crofter's cottage has its peat-stack near the door. 
Peat is simply decayed moss, the most common variety 
of which is called Sphagnum. It is a small plant with 

295 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

thin, scaly leaves. In the light it has a hue of vivid green, 
changing in the lower and darker places to a sickly yel- 
low, and finally in the lowest and dampest places, where 
it is thoroughly decayed, to a deep black. This decayed 
portion is the peat, which, when well dried, burns with a 
smouldering fire, of greater heat than an equal weight of 
wood, but with far greater volume of smoke. The peat- 
banks resemble miniature terraces, each about a foot 
high. The cutting is done with a curious spade, with 
long narrow blade, called a twiscar or tuskar. The top 
layer, consisting of coarse dry grasses and the roots of 
heather and other plants, is of no value. The second 
layer is a thick, moist, spongy substance of a dark brown 
or black colour, while the third is still more compressed, 
and, but for the moisture, looks somewhat like coal. 
Each spadeful resembles a big, blackened brick, of un- 
usual length. They are laid in rows to dry and finally 
carried away to the crofter's cottages, generally in bas- 
kets. The women swing their heavy loads upon their 
backs and trudge long distances. Occasionally the peat 
is loaded upon small sledges drawn by ponies. We saw 
an old woman, with a very pretty granddaughter, load- 
ing their fuel upon one of these sledges, which was 
drawn by a little ' Sheltie ' with furry coat of pure white. 
The old woman kindly allowed me to take her picture, 
a favour which two other women declined to grant, be- 
cause they did n't have on their best clothes! 

Burgh- Westra, the home of Magnus Troil and his 
daughters, is purely fictitious. It was supposed to be 
twenty miles from Sumburgh Head, which would make 
it seven miles south of Lerwick. We passed numerous 
voes, as the long arms of the sea are called, any of which 

296 



THE PIRATE 

would have answered the description of the one upon 
which the Udaller's residence was situated, and we 
could have found many sheltered places among the 
rocks, corresponding to that in which Mordaunt Mer- 
toun secretly met Brenda, or to the beach of white sand 
beneath a precipice, where Minna offered to pledge her 
hand to the pirate, Cleveland, by the mysterious 'pro- 
mise of Odin.' 

Ten miles below Burgh- Westra was Stourburgh, where 
Triptolemus Yellowley and Mistress Baby took up 
their residence. This, too, is fictitious. Sumburgh Head, 
on the contrary, is very real. It is a rocky promontory, 
three hundred feet high, at the southern extremity of the 
Mainland, as the largest of the Shetland Islands is called. 
Conflicting tides, sweeping around the rugged headland 
from two oceans, make a dangerous current, called the 
Roost of Sumburgh, from the Icelandic word, rbst, sig- 
nifying a strong tide. It has been a menace to navigation 
for centuries and the scene of countless shipwrecks. 
The novelist, quite naturally, therefore, made it the 
scene of the wreck and rescue of Cleveland. Such a place 
would appeal strongly to Scott, whose visit to the islands 
was made on a lighthouse yacht, the business of which 
was to inspect just such points of danger. He climbed the 
grassy slope to the top of the head, where he could look 
down from the loftiest crag upon a wild mass of rocks 
below, and said it would have been a fine situation in 
which to compose an ode to the Genius of Sumburgh Head 
or an elegy upon a cormorant or to have written and 
spoken madness of any kind. Instead of doing this he 
gave vent; to his enthusiasm by sitting down on the 
grass and sliding a few hundred feet down to the beach! 

297 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Whether the performance was voluntary or involun- 
tary, he did not see fit to inform us. 

A short distance north of Sumburgh Head, and in full 
view of it, we found the ruins of Jarlshof, the abode of 
Basil Mertoun and his son. It was a poorly built house 
of rough, unhewn stone, and even at its best must have 
been desolate enough. Its age and history are not def- 
initely known. Robert Stewart, a son of James V, who 
received the earldom of the Orkney and Shetland Islands 
from Mary Queen of Scots in 1565, may have been the 
builder. He is known to have dwelt in the house, as did 
his son, Patrick, who abandoned Jarlshof after building 
the Castle of Scalloway. 

When Scott visited Sumburgh he saw nothing in Jarls- 
hof more interesting than a ruined dwelling-house, 
partly buried by the sand, and once the residence of one 
of the Orkney earls. But directly beneath his feet, 
though he knew it not, was an object that would have 
delighted his antiquarian instincts more than anything 
else in the islands. He gave great attention to the old 
Pictish castles or brocks, especially to a small one on 
the shores of a lake near Lerwick, called by him Cleik- 
him-in (Clickimin), and later to the larger tower on the 
island of Mousa. Here at Jarlshof, though the fact was 
unknown to the inhabitants at the time of Scott's visit, 
there was once a series of brocks, as old as Mousa or 
Clickimin, and far more extensive. 

This interesting discovery was made in 1897. Mr- 
John Bruce, the principal landowner in the parish of 
Kinrossness, upon whose property the ruin of Jarlshof 
stands, noticing the encroachments of the sea after a 
storm, began to suspect the existence of masonry be- 

298 



THE PIRATE 

neath the old castle. Two friends who were visiting him 
saw what seemed to be jutting ends of walls. They threw 
off their coats and began to excavate, continuing with 
enthusiasm until they discovered, to their great surprise, 
evidences of a far more extensive building than they had 
suspected. Mr. Bruce then engaged labourers and con- 
tinued the work of excavation for five years. 

The Castle of Jarlshof was erected on top of an older 
structure, the existence of which was evidently entirely 
unknown to the builder. The excavations reveal a cir- 
cular tower sixty-three feet in diameter, similar in design 
to the other Shetland brochs, but larger at the base. Its 
main wall is pierced with a passage three feet wide, 
evidently leading to a staircase, and it has, within its 
thickness several chambers. Half of the broch has been 
swept away by the sea. On the west are portions of three 
smaller buildings, resembling beehives in form, the larg- 
est of which is oval in shape with a length of thirty- 
four feet and a width of nineteen. Outside of this struc- 
ture was a great wall, varying from ten to twenty feet 
thick. It has been uncovered for a distance of seventy 
feet. Its shape suggests that it may have been part of 
a great circular wall surrounding the whole group of build- 
ings, of which the central tower was the strongest and 
most important. Away back in the eighth or ninth cen- 
tury, some Pictish ruler may have constructed this im- 
mense fortress at the southern end of the islands, to 
repel attacks by sea, and to afford a refuge to the in- 
habitants in case of danger. Had Walter Scott known of 
its existence, he would have fairly revelled in the dis- 
covery, and perhaps the plot of 'The Pirate' might 
have been different. 

299 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Standing on the sands at Jarlshof , we could see, toward 
the northwest, the towering promontory of the Fitful 
Head, rising nine hundred and twenty-eight feet above 
the sea. This seemed a little puzzling at first, for Scott 
places the residence of Noma of the Fitful Head at the 
extreme northwestern edge of the Mainland. The Pict- 
ish burgh, or broch, which Noma is supposed to have 
inhabited, is on the island of Mousa, 1 off the eastern 
coast about ten miles north of Sumburgh Head. The 
Wizard, for a very good reason, set the old tower on 
the top of a great headland, ten miles to the south- 
west, and then moved the combination fifty miles to the 
north. 

The dwelling of Noma, therefore, which to the casual 
reader seems so weird, was a very real thing. It repre- 



, s& ft 



zHfr 



8% -ft 




1 CROSS-SECTION OF THE BROCH OF MOUSA. 

a, a. Rooms in circular wall, connected by a rude spiral stair. 
6, b. Windows opening itito the inner court. 

300 



THE PIRATE 

sents one of the earliest forms of architecture, a rude 
attempt to construct a dwelling of loose stones, without 
cement or timber, and with very slight knowledge of the 
art of building. The Norsemen did not come to the 
Shetland Islands until late in the eighth century and 
they found many of these brochs already in existence. 
The most perfect of them all is the one on the island of 
Mousa. It measures fifty-three feet in diameter at the 
base and thirty-eight feet at the top. It is forty-two feet 
high. The interior of what appears, externally, to be 
a rather large building, is less than twenty feet in diam- 
eter owing to the peculiar construction of the walls, 
which are really double. They are seventeen feet wide 
at the base. Inside the walls is a kind of rude stair, or 
inclined plane, winding around the building, and a series 
of very narrow galleries or chambers. These receive air 
through openings in the inner wall, but, excepting the 
door, there is no aperture in the outer wall. 

This is the real building which Scott made the residence 
of Noma because of his profound interest in it as a struc- 
ture of unknown antiquity. But standing in full view, 
firmly planted on a solid and easily accessible rock, its 
situation was too commonplace for the requirements of 
the story. He knew well how to create quite a differ- 
ent impression, by supposing the same kind of house 
situated in a wild and remote locality, on a ragged piece 
of rock split off from the main plateau and leaning out- 
ward over the sea as though the slightest weight would 
tumble the whole structure, rock and all, into the ocean. 
Then, to supply the needed air of mystery, he fancied it 
occupied by a crazy old witch, claiming sovereignty over 
the winds and the seas; her servant an ugly, big-mouthed, 

301 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

tongueless dwarf, with malignant features and a horrible, 
discordant laugh; her favourite pet an uncouth and un- 
canny trained seal; her companions the unseen demons of 
the air; and her occupations the utterance of sibylline 
prophecies and the incantation of weird spells. Clearly, 
all this would have been impossible on the island of 
Mousa, so the author simply adjusted the geography of 
the country to the requirements of his romance. 

Although Lerwick is now the only town of importance 
in the Shetlands, the village of Scalloway, directly across 
the Mainland on the eastern coast, once held that dis- 
tinction. It is picturesquely situated on an arm of the 
sea. Approaching from the east, we paused at the top 
of the hill to look down upon it. Just below was one of 
those long narrow voes, so common in these islands. 
The whale-hunt described in 'The Pirate' came in- 
stantly to mind. It was easy to understand how one 
of these monsters might come in at high tide and find 
himself stranded at the ebb. At the mouth of this voe 
and circling around a small bay of its own lies the quaint 
little village. At the extremity of a point of land between 
the voe and the bay, rising higher than any of the sur- 
rounding buildings, stands the ruined Castle of Scallo- 
way. It was built in 1600 by Patrick Stewart, the Earl 
of Orkney to whom I have previously referred. He was 
the 'Pate Stewart' whose name is still a synonym on the 
islands for all that is cruel and oppressive. He com- 
pelled the people to do his bidding. They were obliged 
to work in the quarries, drag the stone to the town, build 
the house as best they could without proper appliances, 
and perform any kind of menial service he might exact. 
For this they received a penny a day if the Earl felt good- 

302 



THE PIRATE 

natured. Otherwise they received nothing. If they dis- 
pleased him they were thrown into dungeons and not 
infrequently hanged. A huge iron ring near the top of the 
castle, which was used for this purpose, still bears wit- 
ness to Pate Stewart's cruelty. He is said to have 
boasted that the ring seldom lacked a tassel. As men- 
tioned in 'The Pirate/ the inhabitants only remem- 
bered one thing to his credit, and that was a law which 
accorded well with Patrick's own ideas of the rights of 
people to possess their own property. This was the law, 
so dear to boyish hearts, of 'finders keepers.' Property 
washed up from wrecks at sea belonged to those who 
found it. There was a prevalent superstition that to 
save a drowning person was unlucky, and no doubt this 
was one of the results of Pate Stewart's ruling. If a man 
was not rescued he could claim no rights of property. 
It was this superstition, so prevalent on the islands, that 
Scott wove into his plot, making the rescue of Cleveland 
and the saving of his chest an extremely unlucky occur- 
rence for Mordaunt Mertoun. 

We left Lerwick at midnight and stood on deck for 
an hour enjoying the scenery by twilight. The little 
steamer was loaded to the gunwales with barrels of fish, 
piled upon the decks in every nook and corner, so that 
there was scarcely room to stand, making us feel like two 
very insignificant bits of merchandise in the midst of 
such a valuable cargo of good salt herring. In the morn- 
ing we reached the port of Kirkwall, the capital and 
chief city of the Orkneys. 

Instead of a long busy quay, lined with hundreds of 
steam-drifters as at Lerwick, we saw an almost empty 
harbour and a dock, which, but for the arrival of our 

3°3 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

own vessel, would have been deserted. The permanent 
population of the two towns is about the same, Kirkwall 
having the advantage of the better agricultural facilities 
of the Orkneys. Its streets are narrow like those in Ler- 
wick. Bridge Street, up which the pirates marched so 
insolently to meet the city magistrates, and down which 
they swaggered again, dragging the terrified Triptole- 
mus Yellowley, is one of the narrowest of thoroughfares. 
It is commonly said that here, ' two wheelbarrows trem- 
ble as they meet.' At the end, or Hop' of this street we 
turned to the right and found ourselves in Albert Street, 
one striking feature of which is a solitary tree. It was 
said, enviously, in Lerwick, that the people of Kirkwall 
were so proud of this wonderful vegetation that they took 
it in every night and set it out again in the morning. 

Kirkwall is far more interesting than Lerwick because 
of its historical associations, most of which centre about 
the Cathedral of St. Magnus. The ancient building looks 
almost modern as you approach the wide plaza opening 
out from Broad Street. Although older than Melrose, 
Dryburgh, Holyrood, and Dunfermline abbeys, all of 
which are now in ruins, and in spite of the fact that it is 
built of the soft red and yellow sandstone, it still stands, 
complete and proudly erect. When Melrose was rebuilt, 
through the munificence of Robert Bruce in the four- 
teenth century, the central portions of St. Magnus had 
been standing for two centuries. In the sixteenth cen- 
tury, when an English king was battering down the fine 
old Gothic churches of Scotland, the people of Kirkwall 
not only protected their cathedral, but witnessed the 
addition of some of its finest features, notably the west 
doorway. In earlier times it had a spire, which, judging 

304 



THE PIRATE 

from the massive columns upon which it rested, must 
have been an imposing one. The steeple was burned in 
1671, and never replaced, except by a stumpy little 
tower which completely spoils the effect of an otherwise 
impressive building. 

The story of the founding of St. Magnus is one of the 
most interesting of the sagas of the Orkneys. Hakon and 
Magnus, both grandsons of the great Earl Thorfinn, 
were joint rulers of the islands. Hakon was ambitious 
and treacherous; Magnus was virtuous, kind-hearted, 
and well-beloved. By a wicked conspiracy of Hakon and 
his associates, the saintly Magnus was murdered in 
the island of Egilsay in 1 115, bravely meeting his death 
as a noble martyr. Hakon died soon after, and his son 
Paul inherited the earldom. Another claimant appeared 
in the person of Rognvald, a nephew of Earl Magnus, 
now called 'Saint' Magnus, a bold and skilful warrior 
and a born leader of men. Before proceeding against 
Paul, Rognvald accepted the advice of his father, who 
told him not to trust to his own strength, but to make 
a vow, that if, by the grace of St. Magnus, he should 
succeed in gaining his inheritance, he would build and 
dedicate to him a minster in Kirkwall, more magnificent 
in size and splendour than any other in the North. With 
the powerful but mysterious assistance of Sweyn As- 
leif son, ' the last of the Vikings,' who seized Earl Paul and 
carried him away bodily, Earl Rognvald became the 
sole ruler of the earldom. He set to work at once to fulfil 
his vow, and began work upon the cathedral in the year 

"37- 

The massiveness of the building is best realized by 

looking into the nave from the west doorway. The roof 

305 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

is supported by immense round pillars of red sandstone, 
seven on each side. On the north and south of these pil- 
lars are long aisles, the walls of which are covered with 
ancient tombstones, taken up from the floor and set on 
end. In the north aisle is a mort-brod, or death-board, 
inscribed with the name of a departed Orcadian, whose 
picture is shown, sitting on the ground in his grave- 
clothes, a spade over his shoulder, an hour-glass in his 
lap, and a joyful grin on his face. On the reverse is the 
following : — 

Below 

Doeth lye 

If ye wold trye 

Come read upon 

This brod 

The Corps of on Robert 

Nicholsone who s soul s above 

With God. 

He being 70 years of age ended 

This mortal life and 50 of that he 

Was married to Jeane Davidson 

His wife. Betwixt them 2 

12 children had, whereof 

5 left behind the 

other 7 with him 's 

In Heaven, who 's 

Joy's shall 

never 

end 

In the south aisle are some curious tombstones, most of 
them having carved representations of the skull and 
crossbones. The death's heads are all much enlarged 
on the left side, the Orcadian idea being that the soul 
escapes at death through the left ear. 

306 



THE PIRATE 

The pirate, Cleveland, it will be remembered, was kept 
a prisoner in these aisles, and was walking about discon- 
solately when Minna Troil entered. Concealed from the 
guards at the door by the huge pillars, they planned an 
escape. Suddenly Noma of the Fitful Head mysteri- 
ously appeared, and warning Minna that her plan would 
lead to certain discovery, sent the young woman away. 
Noma then led Cleveland through a secret passage out 
of the church to a place of safety. In the south aisle 
there is a low arch which formerly led, so it is said, 
through a secret underground passage to the Bishop's 
Palace across the street. This fact doubtless suggested 
to the novelist the means by which Noma might spirit 
away the captive pirate. 

Across the street which runs by the south side of the 
cathedral are the ruins of two large mansions. The Bish- 
op's Palace, which is not mentioned in 'The Pirate,' is 
chiefly interesting from the fact that Hakon Hakonson, 
the last of the great sea-kings of Norway, after his 
splendid fleet had been driven on the rocks by the fury 
of a great storm and there almost annihilated by the 
fierce onset of the Scottish warriors, sought refuge 
within its walls, only to die a few days later. This was 
in 1263. How much older the palace is, nobody knows. 

The Earl's Palace, with its grounds, occupies the op- 
posite corner, a narrow street intervening between the 
two ruins. The enclosure is filled with sycamores and 
other trees, thus refuting the slander of the envious 
Shetlanders. In fact, when we came to look for them, 
we found more than one enclosure in Kirkwall which 
could boast of fairly good-sized trees. The castle is, or 
was, a very substantial building, with fine broad stair- 

307 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

ways and many turrets. Seen from the south, across 
the bowling-green, it might be taken for the ruin of some 
large church. It was built by the notorious Patrick 
Stewart, the same earl who abandoned Jarlshof, and 
compelled the people to build him a larger castle at 
Scalloway. By the same methods, he constructed the 
palace at Kirkwall, forcing the people to quarry the 
stone and do all his work without pay. An example of 
his tyranny was related to me by a resident of Kirkwall. 
According to this tale, the Earl coveted a piece of land 
adjoining the palace, with which the owner refused to 
part. Patrick, not accustomed to be thwarted in his 
plans, was quick to apply the remedy. He secretly 
caused some casks of brandy to be buried in the desired 
tract. In due time he began to complain that somebody 
was stealing his liquor and finally charged his neighbour 
with the offence. The casks were then triumphantly 
' discovered • as proof positive. Inasmuch as the Earl was 
his own judge, jury, and court of appeals, the poor in- 
nocent landowner was quickly condemned, hanged, and 
his property confiscated. Many a man made over a part 
of his land to the Earl on demand, having no alternative. 
We noticed many portholes under the windows, 
showing that the castle was intended to serve as a fort- 
ress as well as a mansion. This was the secret of the 
Earl's final downfall. The authorities of Edinburgh 
could go to sleep when the Earl of the far-distant islands 
merely oppressed his own people, but to fortify a castle 
against the King was an act of treason. When Patrick 
Stewart and his son Robert prepared to maintain their 
independence by fortifying not only the castle but the 
cathedral, Scotland woke up. The Earl of Caithness 

308 



THE PIRATE 

was sent against the rebels. Robert, who was in com- 
mand, withstood the siege for one month, when he was 
overcome, carried to Edinburgh, and hanged. Patrick 
took refuge in the Castle of Scalloway and for a time 
baffled his pursuers by hiding in a secret chamber. He 
could not resist the consolation of tobacco and took a 
few surreptitious pulls at his pipe, while the searchers 
were in the house. The smoke, or the smell, betrayed 
him. He was speedily taken to Edinburgh, where he 
paid the penalty on the gallows of a long career of 
tyranny, cruelty, extortion, confiscation, robbery, and 
murder. 

The most interesting room in the Earl's castle is the 
banqueting-hall, which had a high roof or ceiling and 
was lighted on the south by three tall but narrow arched 
windows. On one side is a huge fireplace with two arches, 
the lower one flat. Supporting this curious combination 
are two pillars, on which are carved the initials P.E.O., 
meaning Patrick, Earl of Orkney, the letters being still 
legible. In this room Cleveland is supposed to have met 
Jack Bunce upon his return to Kirkwall. 

The two pirates, after leaving the castle, walked to 
Wideford Hill, two miles from the town, where the Fair 
of St. Olla was being held. The annual Lammas Market 
or Fair at this place is still one of the institutions of Kirk- 
wall, although no longer so important as in the time of 
'The Pirate.' 

- If Scott took liberties with the geography of Shetland, 
he was scrupulously exact in his treatment of the Ork- 
neys. Every movement of the brig of Magnus Troil, 
as well as those of the pirate ship, can be traced on the 
map. The latter, it will be recalled, sailed around to 

309 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Stromness, where she dropped anchor. Two inland lakes, 
known as the Loch of Stennis and the Loch of Harray, 
now favourite resorts for anglers, lie northeast of the 
town. They are separated by a narrow causeway called 
the Bridge of Brogar. This is the place where the 
pirates landed their boat on the night of the final trag- 
edy of the story. We found the locality one of the most 
interesting in the islands. 

At the entrance of the bridge stands a huge, rough- 
hewn stone, eighteen feet high, known as the 'watch- 
stone' or 'sentinel.' This is the largest of the 'stones of 
Stennis,' a collection of ancient monoliths comparable 
in Great Britain only to those of Stonehenge. At the 
farther end of the bridge is the so-called ' Circle of the 
Sun,' a ring about one hundred and twenty yards in 
diameter, surrounded by a trench about six feet deep. 
The stones composing this circle are from eight to sixteen 
feet high and of irregular shape. One of them is at least 
five or six feet wide. There were about forty stones origi- 
nally, but now only fifteen remain standing. A smaller 
group, known as the ' Circle of the Moon,' but composed 
of larger stones, stands in a field near the eastern end 
of the bridge. A horizontal stone, laid on top of these 
vertical ones, makes a rude table or altar. This may have 
been a place of druidical sacrifices, if the most prevalent 
belief is to be accepted, or possibly the work of Scandi- 
navian hands. It was by this table of stone that Minna 
stood, to meet and bid farewell to her lover, looking like 
a druidical priestess, or, if the Scandinavian theory be 
accepted, 'she might have seemed a descended vision of 
Freya, the spouse of the Thundering Deity, before whom 
some bold sea-king or champion bent with an awe 

310 



THE PIRATE 

which no mere mortal terror could have inflicted upon 
him.' 

The Stone of Odin formerly stood on the east side of 
this circle. Minna had offered to pledge her faith to 
Cleveland by the 'promise of Odin' and Noma of the 
Fitful Head had married her lover by the same rite. This 
stone differed from the others only in the fact that it had 
a round hole near the base. Lovers who found it incon- 
venient to be married by a priest, or who wished to plight 
their troth by some unusually solemn vow, resorted to 
this stone, and a promise here given was regarded as 
sacred and never to be broken. The marriage cere- 
mony was peculiar. The couple first visited the Circle 
of the Moon, where the woman, in the presence of the 
man, knelt and prayed to the god Woden, or Odin, that 
he would enable her to perform all her obligations and 
promises. They next went to the Circle of the Sun, where 
the man in like manner made his prayers. Then they 
returned to the Stone of Odin, where, the man standing 
on one side and the woman on the other, they joined 
hands through the hole and took upon themselves the 
solemn vows of matrimony. Such a marriage could never 
be broken. 

Scott visited the Stones of Stennis in 1814. Had he 
arrived a year later he would not have seen the Stone of 
Odin, for some irreverent Orcadian broke it up, probably 
to help build the foundation of his cottage. 

Leaving, with some reluctance, these relics of a civili- 
zation more than a thousand years old, we resumed our 
journey toward Stromness. The town lies on the slope of 
a hill, resembling Lerwick in this respect and in the 
closeness of the houses to the sea. Some of the buildings 

3" 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

stand so near the water that parts of the bayjook like a 
miniature Venice. Our motor-car frequently occupied 
the entire width of the street, sidewalks and all, as we 
twisted our tortuous course for a mile along the main 
thoroughfare. From the high ground behind the town, 
we had a fine view of the sea, and across the sound, the 
great towering island of Hoy, the highest and most 
impressive of all the Orkney group. On the western side 
a long line of precipitous cliffs, rising a thousand feet 
above the sea, opposes an unbroken front to the full force 
of the Atlantic. At the western end as we saw it from 
above Stromness, the rocks form the profile of a man's 
face, not so stern as that in the Franconia Notch of the 
White Mountains, but having rather a more genial look. 
It is said to resemble Sir Walter Scott, a likeness which, 
I confess, I could see only when I shut my eyes and 
thought of Chantrey's bust. 

The island of Hoy plays an important part in 'The 
Pirate.' It was the original home of Noma when the 
old witch was a handsome young girl. The Dwarfie 
Stone, where she met the demon Trolld, and bartered 
her life's happiness for the power to control the tem- 
pests and the waves of the sea, is on the southwest slope 
of Ward Hill, the highest peak of which rises to a height 
of over fifteen hundred feet. It is in a desolate peat- 
bog, two miles from the nearest human habitation. The 
stone is about thirty feet long and half as wide. Hol- 
lowed out of the interior is a chamber, with two beds, 
one of them a little over five feet long. It is difficult to 
conceive why any human being should have taken the 
trouble to cut out the rock for a hermitage or place of 
refuge, or why any one should seek so desolate an abode. 

312 



THE PIRATE 

Tradition therefore affirmed that the rock was fashioned 
by spirit hands and was the dwelling of the elfin dwarf, 
Trolld. It was to this island that Noma conducted 
Mordaunt after he had received a wound at the hands 
of Cleveland. 

It was at Stromness that Scott, in 1814, made the 
acquaintance of Bessie Millie, an aged dame who made 
her living by selling favourable winds to mariners at the 
reasonable price of sixpence each. The touch of insan- 
ity, and the strong influence she possessed over the 
natives of the island, who feared her power, were strongly 
suggestive of Noma. This old sibyl related to Scott the 
story of John Gow, whose boyhood was spent in Strom- 
ness. This daring individual had gone to sea at an early 
age and returned to the home of his youth, a pirate, 
commanding a former English galley of two hundred 
tons which he had captured and renamed the ' Re- 
venge.' He boldly came ashore and mingled with the 
people, giving dancing-parties in the village of Strom- 
ness. Before his real character was known he became 
engaged to a young woman, and the two plighted their 
troth at the Stone of Odin. The houses of his former 
neighbours were plundered and many acts of insolence 
and violence committed. At length, through the exertions 
of a former schoolmate, Gow was captured with his entire 
crew and speedily executed at London. The young 
woman journeyed to London, too, for the purpose of 
touching her former lover's dead body. In that way 
only, according to the superstition of her country, could 
she obtain a release from her vow and avoid a visit from 
the pirate's ghost, in case she should ever marry. Gow's 
brief career furnished an excellent model for Cleveland, 

313 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

though the author endowed his ' pirate ' with some very 
commendable qualities which the prototype probably 
did not possess. 

Bessie Millie, the old hag of Stromness, needed, in 
addition to her own eccentricities, only a few touches of 
the gipsy nature, to make her a good ' original ' for Noma. 
A local preacher in the parish of Tingwall, whom Scott 
met on his visit to Shetland, is said to have suggested 
Triptolemus Yellowley. Three or four families, in whose 
homes the novelist was a welcome visitor, have laid 
claim to the honour of supplying the 'originals ' of Minna 
and Brenda Troil. These two delightful characters, 
however, were no doubt intended merely to embody the 
ideal of perfect sisterly affection, and external resem- 
blances to real people, though such might easily be 
fancied, were probably far from the author's purpose. 

For the rest, the great charm of ' The Pirate ' lies in the 
expression of the novelist's enthusiasm for the fresh 
and fascinating scenery of a wild country, where strange 
weird tales are wafted on every breeze, where the quaint 
customs of past ages are still retained, where Nature 
reveals herself in a constant succession of new and ever 
captivating forms, where the rush of the wind and the 
roar of the sea impart fresh joys to the senses and fill 
one's soul with renewed veneration for the Power that 
rules the elements. 

As we sailed away for Aberdeen, it was with very much 
the same feeling which Scott expressed at the close of 
his diary of the vacation of 1814. 1 He said he had taken 

1 The diary, containing a full account of the visit of 1814, in a light- 
house yacht, to the Shetland and Orkney Islands, the Hebrides, and the 
northern coasts of Scotland and Ireland, is printed in full in Lockhart's 

Life of Scott. 

3H 



THE PIRATE 

as much pleasure in the excursion as in any six weeks of 
his life. 'The Pirate' was not written until seven years 
later, but it carries as much freshness and enthusiasm as 
though it had been composed on the return voyage. 



CHAPTER XXII 

THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 

Hitherto our exploration of the Scott country had re- 
vealed a never-ending succession of ruined castles, pal- 
aces, and abbeys; of picturesque rivers, lakes, cataracts, 
and quiet pools; of seashores where thunderous waves 
dashed against precipitous cliffs; of quaint villages and 
queer-looking dwelling-houses; of weird caverns"* and 
strange monuments suggesting the superstitions and 
fantasies of bygone ages; of pleasant meadows, wild 
moors, rounded hilltops, and rugged mountains; of a 
thousand tangible objects of interest which had in some 
way suggested to Sir Walter the theme for a poem or 
story. But when we reached Scott's London, the cam- 
era, which had faithfully recorded all the other scenes, 
refused to perform its function. The tangibleness of the 
subjects had ceased. My lenses have excellent physical 
eyes but no historical insight. They insist upon seeing 
things as they are and will not record them as they 
once existed. The London of Nigel Olifaunt has com- 
pletely disappeared and in its place a new London has 
arisen. To photograph the city of to-day as the scenes 
of Nigel's adventures, would be like painting the 'Pur- 
chase of Manhattan Island from the Indians' with a 
background of fifty-story 'sky-scrapers.' From such a 
task my faithful camera shrank, and I was obliged to 
lay it aside, to turn over, for several days, the pages of 

316 



THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 

some huge piles of books on Old London in the British 
Museum. 

Lockhart, who places 'The Fortunes of Nigel' in the 
first class of Scott's romances, says that his historical 
portrait of King James I 'stands forth preeminent and 
almost alone.' This, indeed, is the whole object of the 
book, — to picture the London of King James and the 
personal peculiarities of that monarch. Scott was 
thoroughly saturated — so to speak — with the history 
and literature of that period, and especially with the 
dramas of Ben Jonson and his contemporaries; and this 
enabled him to picture the manners of the time almost 
as if they were within his personal recollection. 

It is an amusing portrait of a pompous, strutting, and 
absurd monarch who yet possessed enough learning, as 
well as ready wit, to gain the title of ' the wisest fool in 
Christendom.' Through his famous tutor at Stirling 
Castle, George Buchanan, who freely boxed the royal 
ears and administered spankings the same as to other 
boys, the King had early acquired a certain taste for 
learning. He evinced a fondness for the classics and 
yearned to become a poet. He wrote in verse a para- 
phrase of the Revelation of St. John and a version of the 
Psalms, besides prose disquisitions on every conceivable 
subject. His conversation, as described by Scott, was 
a curious compound of Latin, Greek, English, and the 
broad Scotch dialect. His tastes, as well as character, 
were suggested by the appearance of a table in the pal- 
ace, which, says the novelist, 'was loaded with huge fo- 
lios, amongst which lay light books of jest and ribaldry; 
and, amongst notes of unmercifully long orations, and 
essays on kingcraft, were mingled miserable roundels 

3i7 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

and ballads by the Royal 'Prentice, as he styled him- 
self, in the art of poetry, and schemes^for the general 
pacification of Europe, with a list of the names of the 
King's hounds, and remedies against canine madness.' 

A man of medium height and somewhat corpulent, 
James managed to make his figure seem absurdly fat and 
clumsy, by having his green velvet dress quilted, so as 
to be dagger-proof, for he was both timid and cowardly. 
The ungainly protuberance thus artificially acquired was 
accentuated by a pair of weak legs, which caused him 
to roll about rather than walk, and to lean on other 
men's shoulders when standing. 'He was fond of his 
dignity while he was perpetually degrading it by undue 
familiarity; capable of much public labour, yet often 
neglecting it for the meanest amusement; a wit, though 
a pedant; and a scholar, though fond of the conversation 
of the ignorant and uneducated.' 

Contrasting strongly with this weak and ludicrous 
character, Scott introduced the sterling qualities of a 
noble Scotchman, George Heriot, to whom Edinburgh 
is indebted for one of her most splendid benevolent 
institutions, Heriot's Hospital, where for nearly three 
centuries the poor fatherless boys of the city have been 
transformed into eminent and useful citizens, honoured 
and respected in many parts of the world. George 
Heriot, nicknamed by the King 'Jingling Geordie,' was 
the son of an Edinburgh goldsmith, to whose business 
he succeeded. At thirty-six years of age he had the good 
fortune to be appointed goldsmith to Queen Anne, and 
shortly after, goldsmith and jeweller to her husband, 
then James VI of Scotland. On his accession to the Eng- 
lish throne as James I, in 1603, Heriot followed the King 

318 



THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 

to London. In those times, and until the eighteenth 
century, goldsmiths commonly acted as bankers. Heriot 
made full use of his unusual opportunity and laid the 
foundation of a large fortune. Disheartened by the loss 
of his young and beautiful wife, who died at the age of 
twenty-one, Heriot made a will leaving his entire prop- 
erty, amounting to £23,625, for the establishment of the 
hospital. His picture is thus described in a^quotation 
copied by Scott in one of his notes: 'His fair hair, which 
overshades the thoughtful brow and calm, calculating 
eye, with the cast of humour on the lower part of the 
countenance, are all indicative of the genuine Scottish 
character, and well distinguish a person fitted to move 
steadily and wisely through the world, with a strength 
of resolution to ensure success and a disposition to 
enjoy it.' 

The weakness of James is still further accentuated in 
the novel by the introduction of his imperious favourite, 
George Villiers, the first Duke of Buckingham, whom the 
King called 'Steenie,' from his fancied resemblance to 
the portrait of the martyr, Stephen, as painted by the 
Italian artists. ' James endured his domination rather 
from habit, timidity, and a dread of encountering his 
stormy passions, than from any heartfelt continuation 
of regard towards him.' The King's favour, nevertheless, 
made Buckingham the richest nobleman in England 
(with possibly a single exception) and the virtual ruler 
of the kingdom. The constant companion of the Duke 
was Baby Charles, as James insisted upon calling his 
son, afterward King Charles I, for whose ruin and death 
on the scaffold James was himself, all unconsciously, 
rapidly paving the way. David Ramsay, the whimsical 

319 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

and absent-minded watchmaker, who kept shop in 
Fleet Street, near Temple Bar, was a real character, 
who held the post of 'watchmaker and horologer' to 
James I. His most famous performance was a search for 
hidden treasure in the cloister of Westminster Abbey, 
by the use of Mosaic rods, or divining rods, which, ac- 
cording to the current account, failed solely because of 
the presence of too many people. The irreverent laugh- 
ter of these persons caused a fierce wind to spring up so 
suddenly that ' the demons had to be dismissed ' for fear 
the church would fall in on them. 

These are the real characters of the story. To identify 
the scenes a good map of Old London, will accomplish 
more than a personal visit. Such a map need only follow 
the windings of the Thames, which for centuries was the 
great silent highway of London, — a distinction which 
it did not lose until the beginning of the nineteenth cen- 
tury. Over the highway passed the royal barge of Eliza- 
beth, as described in 'Kenil worth,' and it was by this 
same method of travelling that George Heriot conducted 
his young friend, Nigel, to the presence of the King at 
Whitehall. For the streets of the city were narrow and 
crowded, and rioting, as the result of debauchery and 
licentiousness, was not infrequent, so that few cared to 
ride on horseback, and carriages, except for the high 
nobility, were entirely unknown. So the Thames was 
the one great artery through which flowed both the busi- 
ness and social life of the city. 

When King George and Queen Mary, at the recent 
coronation, passing through the Admiralty Arch in 
Trafalgar Square, turned into Whitehall on their way 
to Westminster Abbey, their route lay between great 

320 



THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 

rows of government buildings, lined with thousands of 
cheering subjects. Had conditions remained as they were 
in King James's time, this part of the triumphal proces- 
sion would have been entirely within the limits of their 
own royal palace. 

Whitehall Palace, originally built in 1 240, was for three 
centuries called York House, or York Place, taking its 
name from the fact that it was the London residence of 
the Archbishop of York. Under Cardinal Wolsey it 
was rebuilt and refurnished in a style of magnificence 
excelling anything ever before known in England and 
equal in splendour to the best in the palaces of the kings. 
With the fall of Wolsey in 1529 the mansion became the 
property of King Henry VIII, who changed the name 
to Whitehall, and proceeded to enlarge and improve 
both the palace and the grounds. A plan published in 
1680 shows that the buildings, with their courtyards and 
areas, then covered twenty-three acres. It included 
a cock-pit and a tennis-court, on the site of the present 
Treasury buildings, and the Horse-Guards Parade was 
then a tilt-yard. These arrangements sufficiently suggest 
some of the favourite amusements of royalty. Henry 
VIII took great delight in cock-fighting and James I 
amused himself with it regularly twice a week. Queen 
Elizabeth found pleasure in tournaments and pageants, 
and it is recorded that in the sixty-seventh year of her 
age she 'commanded the bear, the bull, and the ape to 
be bay ted in the Tilt-yard.' * 

King James I found the palace in bad repair and deter- 
mined to rebuild it on a vast and magnificent scale. 

1 Quoted from Sydney's ' State Papers,' in The Old Royal Palace of 
Whitehall, by Edgar Sheppard, D.D. 

321 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Inigo Jones, one of the most famous architects of his 
time, was employed and made plans for a building, 
which, if completed, would have covered an area of 
twenty-four acres. Judging from drawings now in the 
British Museum, it seems a pity that this admirable 
project was never fully executed. Only the banquet- 
ing-hall was finished, and this still remains as the sole 
survivor of the Palace of Whitehall. Its chief histori- 
cal interest lies in the fact that, from one of its windows, 
Charles I stepped out upon the scaffold where he was 
beheaded. 

If we were to follow ancient custom and use the 
Thames for our highway, as did two hundred peers and 
peeresses at the late coronation, we should now row 
down the river and land at Charing Cross Pier, where 
we should find the remnant of the sumptuous palace 
built by 'Steenie,' the Duke of Buckingham. This is the 
York Water Gate, formerly the entrance to the Duke's 
mansion from the Thames, but now high above the 
water, overlooking the garden of the Victoria Embank- 
ment. 

Continuing down the river, we should stop at Temple 
Pier, and visit the Temple Gardens, where Nigel walked 
in despair, after his encounter with Lord Dalgarno in 
St. James's Park, and where, it will be remembered, he 
fell in with the friendly Templar, Reginald Lowestoffe. 
The Temple property was granted in 1609 by James I 
to the benchers of the Inner and Middle Temple for the 
education of students and professors of the law. Oliver 
Goldsmith lived in Middle Temple Lane, and in the same 
house, Sir William Blackstone, the great English jurist, 
and William Makepeace Thackeray, also had chambers. 

322 



THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 

Dr. Johnson lived in Inner Temple Lane, as did Charles 
Lamb, who was born within the Temple. 

Coming out into Fleet Street, we should stand 
before the figure of a griffin on a high pedestal, which 
marks the site of Temple Bar. In Scott's time it was an 
arch crossing the street, and in the time of King James, 
merely a barricade of posts and chains. When the coro- 
nation procession passed this point, King George V, ac- 
cording to ancient custom, paused to receive permission 
from the Lord Mayor to enter the City of London. The 
civic sword was presented to the King and immediately 
returned to the Lord Mayor, after which the procession 
resumed its march. 

Within Temple Bar and on the north side of Fleet 
Street, between Fetter Lane and Chancery Lane, is St. 
Dunstan's Church, built in 1832 on the site of an older 
church building. A few yards to the eastward, according 
to Scott, was the shop of David Ramsay, the watch- 
maker, before which the two 'stout-bodied and strong- 
voiced' apprentices kept up the shouts of 'What d'ye 
lack? what d' ye lack? ' — very much after the fashion 
of a modern 'barker.' This was the opening scene of the 
novel, though not suggested in the slightest by the Fleet 
Street of to-day. 

On the opposite side a narrow lane, called Bouverie 
Street, leads down toward the river along the eastern 
boundary of The Temple, into ' Whitefriars,' or Alsatia, 
where Nigel was compelled to take refuge for a time in 
the house of the old miser, Trapbois. The ' Friars of the 
Blessed Virgin of Mount Carmel,' otherwise known as 
the 'White Friars,' established their London house in 
1 241, between Fleet Street and the Thames, on land 

323 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

granted by Edward I. This carried with it the privileges 
of sanctuary or immunity from arrest, which were al- 
lowed to the inhabitants long after the dissolution of the 
religious houses. Indeed, before the suppression of the 
monastery, the persons of bad repute, who had flocked 
to the district in great numbers, were wont to make so 
much disturbance with their continual clamours and 
outcries, that the friars complained that they could not 
conduct divine service. The privilege was confirmed 
by James I, and in his time, as a consequence, 'Alsatia,' 
as the district came to be called, was one of the worst 
quarters in London. It was the common habitation of 
thieves, gamblers, swindlers, murderers, bullies, and 
drunken, dissipated reprobates of both sexes. Its at- 
mosphere, thick with the fogs of the river, fairly reeked 
with the smell of alehouses of the lowest order, which 
outnumbered all the other houses. The shouts of rioters, 
the profane songs and boisterous laughter of the revel- 
lers, mingled with the wailing of children and the scream- 
ing of women. The men were 'shaggy, uncombed ruf- 
fians whose enormous mustaches were turned back over 
their ears/ and they swaggered through the dirty streets, 
quarrelling, brawling, fighting, swearing, and 'smoking 
like moving volcanoes.' They waged a ceaseless warfare 
against their proud and noisy, but not so disreputable, 
neighbours of The Temple. 

Coming back to our imaginary trip by river (for 
we really visited these sites either on foot or by taxi- 
cab), we continue down the river, passing under Black- 
friars Bridge, and stop for a moment at Paul's Wharf, 
near where Nigel found quarters in the house of John 
Christie, the honest ship-chandler. Journeying on- 

324 



THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 

ward, we pass under London Bridge, which in James's 
time was the only means of crossing the river, other than 
by boat. It was then overloaded with a great weight of 
huge buildings, many stories high, under which passed 
a narrow roadway. At the southern entrance was a 
gate, the top of which was decorated with the heads of 
traitors. All the buildings were finally cleared away in 
1757 and 1758. 

Passing under London Bridge we soon come to the 
Tower of London, which the unfortunate Nigel entered 
through the Traitor's Gate. From the time of William 
the Conqueror, by whom its foundations were begun, 
until the reign of Charles II, the Tower of London was 
used as a palace by the kings of England. It has been 
said that the ' strong monarchs employed the Tower as 
a prison, the weak ones as a fortress.' It was as a prison 
that the Tower achieved its unenviable fame in history 
as 

London's lasting shame; 
With many a foul and midnight murder fed. 

In its dark precincts many of the noblest of England's 
men and women found themselves prisoners, the ma- 
jority of them perishing upon the block. Anne Boleyn 
and Katherine Howard, wives of Henry VIII; Lady Jane 
Grey and her husband Guildford Dudley; the father x 
and the grandfather 2 of Dudley; and Sir Walter Raleigh 
were among the most famous of these victims. Nigel 
was confined in the Beauchamp Tower, where many 
distinguished persons were imprisoned. The inscriptions 
to which Scott refers may still be seen, including that 

1 John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland. 

2 Edmund Dudley, the notorious agent of King Henry VII. 

325 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

of Lady Jane Grey, though it is probable that this was 
written by her husband or by his brother, who is sup- 
posed to have carved the device of the bear and ragged 
staff, 'the emblem of the proud Dudleys,' which is an 
elaborate piece of sculpture on the right of the fireplace. 

To complete our survey of the scenery of 'The For- 
tunes of Nigel,' we have to continue our journey down 
the Thames until we land in Greenwich Hospital and the 
Royal Naval College, which occupy the site of the old 
royal palace, formerly called Placentia or Pleasaunce. 
It was a favourite royal palace as early as 1300, though 
it passed into the hands of the nobility and came back 
to the Crown in 1433 on the death of Humphrey, Duke 
of Gloucester. It was the birthplace of King Henry 
VIII and of Mary and Elizabeth. The building was en- 
larged by Henry VIII, James I, and Charles I. Charles 
II caused it to be pulled down, intending to carry out 
some ambitious plan, but succeeded in erecting only 
the building which is now the west wing of the hospital. 
Back of the palace is an extensive park of one hundred 
and ninety acres. This is where Nigel unexpectedly en- 
countered the King, at the very climax of a stag-hunt, 
frightening him nearly to death; and here he was un- 
ceremoniously arrested and hurried off to the Tower. 
The park still has herds of deer, though they are no 
longer hunted, and a row of fine old chestnuts, origin- 
ally planted by command of Charles II, who laid out 
the enclosure. In the centre is a hill, surmounted by 
the famous Royal Greenwich Observatory, from whose 
meridian longitude is reckoned and whose clock deter- 
mines the standard of time for all England. 

Just as 'The Heart of Midlothian' had produced 
326 



THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 

a vivid picture of life in Edinburgh during the reign of 
George II, so 'The Fortunes of Nigel' reproduced the 
life of London in the time of King James. For this bril- 
liant study, not only of the curious monarch, but of the 
strange manners and customs as well as the lawlessness 
of the city, which the King's folly did so much to create, 
the novel has been generally accorded a very high rank 
among Scott's productions. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

PEVERIL OF THE PEAK 

'Old Peveril' was one of the pet nicknames with 
which Scott was dubbed by some of his young legal 
friends in Parliament House, and he carried the sobri- 
quet for the remainder of his life, taking great delight in 
it. He did not, however, take much pleasure from the 
composition of the novel, finding it a tiresome task from 
which he could only find relief by planning its successor. 
It marks the beginning of a malady which ultimately 
proved fatal. Scott concealed the symptoms from his 
family, but confided to a friend that he feared Peveril 
'will smell of the apoplexy.' It proved a heavy under- 
taking, covering a period of twenty years of exciting 
history and three distinct, but widely differing, localities, 
namely, Derbyshire, the Isle of Man, and London in the 
time of Charles II. 

In the high Peak country of Derbyshire, about fifteen 
miles west of Sheffield, lies the village of Castleton, nest- 
ling snugly at the foot of a somewhat precipitous hill. 
Away back in the time of William the Conqueror, a son 
of that monarch received a grant of large estates in 
Derbyshire, and selected the very summit of this steep 
and almost inaccessible rock as the site of his castle. His 
name was William Peveril and the bit of a ruin which 
still remains, high in the air above the village, is called 
Peveril Castle. We reached it after a very hard climb, 
by a steep path running zigzag across the face of a long 

328 



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK 

grassy slope. It was scarcely worth the effort, for the 
' castle ' is now only a small square tower, of no interest 
whatever, except from the fact that it gave the name to 
one of the Waverley Novels. 

The domain of this William Peveril seems to have 
extended far to the south of Castleton, and included in 
it was the site of Haddon Hall, a fine mediaeval mansion, 
picturesquely situated on the river Wye, between 
Bakewell and Rowsley, and still in wonderfully good 
repair. The Peverils held the property for about a 
century, when they were deprived of the lands by King 
Henry II. In 1195, Haddon came into the possession of 
the Vernon family, who continued to reside there for 
nearly four centuries. The last of the name was Sir 
George Vernon, who became celebrated as the ' King of 
the Peak.' His large possessions passed into the hands 
of his youngest daughter, Dorothy, whose elopement 
and marriage with John Manners, youngest son of the 
Earl of Rutland, threw about the old mansion that 
atmosphere of poetry and romance which has ever 
since been associated with it. To me, the most pleasing 
part of the old hall is the terrace and lawn, back of the 
house. A flight of broad stairs, with stone balustrades, 
leads to Dorothy Vernon's Walk, which is shaded by 
the thick foliage of oaks, limes, sycamores, and other 
forest trees, for which the park was once famous. 
Grassy mounds mark the boundaries of the lawn, and 
the castle walls, with their wide windows and luxurious 
mantle of deep green ivy, add a delightful charm to the 
picture. This is further enhanced by the romantic asso- 
ciations of the place. Traditions say that John Manners, 
who, for some reason, was forbidden the opportunity to 

329 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

visit the fair Dorothy openly, hovered about these ter- 
races disguised as a forester, seeking brief interviews in 
secret. On the night of a ball in celebration of her sis- 
ter's wedding, Dorothy slipped into the garden, and 
passing through the terrace made her way across the 
Wye over a quaint little bridge, built just large enough 
for a single pack-horse, and now known as the 'Pack- 
Horse Bridge.' On the other side, John waited with 
horses, and the two rode away to be married. Whatever 
may have been the objection to the marriage, events 
soon adjusted the affair and Dorothy Vernon became 
the sole owner of the mansion. It has remained ever since 
in the possession of the Manners family, the Earls and 
Dukes of Rutland. 

In his description of Martindale Castle, the seat of 
Sir Geoffrey Peveril, Scott doubtless had in mind, to some 
extent at least, this more pretentious mansion on the 
original property of the Peverils, rather than the unin- 
teresting tower at Castleton. He refers to Haddon Hall 
in one of his notes as having suggested a certain arrange- 
ment of rooms, and in his account of Lady Peveril's din- 
ner to the Cavaliers and Roundheads, in honour of the 
restoration of King Charles II, he makes use of two large 
dining-rooms, which Haddon Hall could readily supply, 
but which might be difficult to find in any ordinary 
mansion of the period. 

Lady Peveril, it will be remembered, in spite of the 
'good fellowship' and ' reconciliation ' which the banquet 
was to celebrate, dared not permit the rival factions to 
dine together, so she adopted the unique expedient of 
placing the jovial Cavaliers in the hall, while the strict 
Puritans occupied the large parlour. The great hall of 

33° 



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK 

Haddon is about thirty-five feet long and twenty-five 
feet wide. At one end is an ancient table, many centuries 
old, and at the other is a minstrel's gallery, with carved 
panellings and ornamented by stag's heads. A great 
open fireplace gives a suggestion of good cheer, even to 
the bare room. Back of this is another large dining- 
room on the oaken walls of which are some fine old 
carvings. It also has a large open fireplace, above which 
is the motto 

Drede God and Honor the Kyng. 

The room was formerly larger than now and may have 
been in the author's mind as the scene of the Puritan 
part of the banquet. Haddon Hall, however, although 
it doubtless furnished some few suggestions, must not 
be taken as an 'original' of Martindale Castle. The 
novelist never felt the necessity of an exact model, but 
freely used the places with which he was familiar for 
such suggestions as they might chance to furnish. In 
his later work he often described localities which he had 
never visited, frequently doing so with an exactness 
suggesting the most intimate personal knowledge. 

This was true of the Isle of Man, which Scott had 
never seen, but which he describes in 'Peveril of the 
Peak' with great accuracy, relying for his information 
upon Waldron's 'Description of the Isle of Man,' pub- 
lished in 1 73 1. 

After an interval of several years following the events 
in Derbyshire, Julian Peveril appears as a visitor at 
Castle Rushen, in the southern end of the Isle of Man. 
Tradition says that this ancient castle was founded in 
the tenth century by Guttred, the son of a Norwegian 

33* 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

chief named Orry, who took possession and with his 
sons and successors reigned for many years as kings of 
the Isle of Man. Later the Earls of Derby ruled as 
monarchs of the island and Castle Rushen was their 
royal residence. 

The traditional castle of the Norwegians was replaced 
in the thirteenth century by a strong fortress of lime- 
stone. This was partly destroyed by Robert Bruce in 
13 13 and remained in ruins for three centuries. It was 
then rebuilt by the Earls of Derby in its present form. 
The central keep is a strong tower with walls twenty- 
two feet thick at the base and about seventy feet high. 
It is surrounded by an embattled wall twenty-five feet 
high and nine feet thick. On the tower facing the market 
square is a clock presented in 1597 by Queen Elizabeth. 

In 1627, James Stanley, celebrated as 'the great Earl 
of Derby,' became lord of the island. This nobleman 
was executed in 165 1, charged with the crime of assisting 
Charles II before the battle of Worcester. During his 
absence in England the Castle Rushen was heroically 
defended by his wife, the brave Charlotte de la Tre- 
mouille, Countess of Derby. William Christian, popu- 
larly known as William Dhone, or 'the fair-haired 
William/ had been entrusted by the Earl with the care 
of his wife and children. Whatever may have been his 
motive, the Receiver-General, by which title Christian 
was known, surrendered the island without resistance, 
on the appearance of the Parliamentary army, and the 
Countess was imprisoned in the castle. After the Res- 
toration of Charles II, the Countess accused Christian 
of treachery to herself and brought about his execution 
in 1662. 

332 



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK 

These were the main facts which, coming to the novel- 
ist's attention through his brother, Thomas Scott, who 
for several seasons resided in the Isle of Man, attracted 
his fancy and suggested the writing of 'Peveril of the 
Peak.' 

Peel Castle, to which the action of the story is soon 
transferred, stands on a rocky islet off the western coast 
of the island. It was once a vast ecclesiastical establish- 
ment and now contains the ruins of two churches, two 
chapels, two prisons, and two palaces. Of these the best 
preserved and most interesting is the Cathedral of St. 
Germain, a cruciform building, some parts of which 
were built in the thirteenth century. In a crypt below 
was the ecclesiastical prison where many remarkable 
captives were confined, the most notable of whom was 
Eleanor Cobham, wife of Humphrey, Duke of Glouces- 
ter, who was accused of witchcraft and of devising a 
wicked plot to kill the King and place her husband upon 
the throne. 

Higher up on the rock are the remains of St. Patrick's 
Church, in the walls of which are some good examples of 
the 'herring-bone' masonry indicating great antiquity. 
The walls are thought by antiquarians to date back to 
the fifth century. Behind this is the remarkable round 
tower, about fifty feet high, which Mr. Hall Caine has 
introduced in 'The Christian.' 

The custodian, when he learned of our interest in Sir 
Walter Scott, could scarcely restrain his anxiety to 
show us Fenella's Tower. This is a bit of the surround- 
ing wall, containing a small square turret. Beneath is a 
narrow stairway, forming a sally-port, through which 
entrance could be gained to a space between two par- 

333 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

allel outside walls. In time of siege, soldiers could go 
out and fire at the enemy from this place of concealment 
through openings in the walls. If hard-pressed they 
could retire to the tower and pour scalding water or hot 
lead upon an attacking body. In Scott's tale, Julian 
Peveril, seeking to leave the castle by this stair, is inter- 
cepted by Fenella, who is anxious to prevent his depar- 
ture. Finally eluding her grasp, he hastens down the 
stair only to be confronted again by the deaf-and-dumb 
maiden, who has accomplished her purpose by leaping 
over the parapet. We gazed down from the walls upon a 
ledge of rocks at least fifteen feet below and concluded 
that, for a little girl, this was a pretty big leap! 

The keep and guard-house near the entrance was the 
scene of the Manx legend of the Moddey Dhoo, a large 
black spaniel with shaggy hair, which haunted Peel 
Castle. This dog is referred to in 'The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel ' : 

For he was speechless, ghastly, wan, 
Like him of whom the story ran 
Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man. 

The Moddey Dhoo was the terror of all the soldiers on 
the island, who believed he was an evil spirit, only 
awaiting an opportunity to do them harm. At length, a 
drunken soldier declared he would find out whether the 
animal were dog or devil. He departed bravely, with 
much noise and boasting, but none dared follow. When 
he returned the fellow was sober and silent. He never 
spoke again, but three days later died in agony. 

The remaining scenery of 'Peveril of the Peak' is 
London in the time of Charles II. The ' dark and shad- 
owy ' city had now attracted nearly all the personages of 

334 




THE SAXON TOWER, ISLE OF MAN 



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK 

the story. In St. James's Park, adjoining the Palace of 
Whitehall, Fenella danced with wondrous grace and 
agility before the King. As in 'The Fortunes of Nigel,' 
the Thames is the great highway of traffic, and Julian 
Peveril is carried by coach to the river from old Newgate 
Prison, and thence by boat to the Tower, which, like 
Nigel, he enters through the Traitor's Gate. 

The Savoy, a dilapidated old pile, where Julian unex- 
pectedly meets Fenella, was once a great palace. It was 
built by Simon de Montfort, the great Earl of Leicester, 
in 1245. I n the following century it was almost demol- 
ished by a mob, but in 1509 King Henry VII restored 
and rebuilt the palace and converted it into a hospital. 
Half a century later, Queen Mary refounded and reen- 
dowed the institution. In the time of the story the build- 
ing was probably not so antiquated and ruinous as Scott 
describes it. Charles II, after the Restoration, used it 
as the meeting-place of the Savoy conference for the 
revision of the Liturgy. In Scott's time it was ruinous 
enough and since then has entirely disappeared. West- 
minster Hall, where the trial of the Peverils was held, is 
now the vestibule of the Houses of Parliament. It was 
originally built by William Rufus, son of the Conqueror, 
in 1097, but afterward destroyed by fire and rebuilt. In 
it some of the earliest English Parliaments were held 
and it has been the scene of many coronation festivals. 

The novel gives a graphic picture of the gay, dissipated, 
and scandalous court of Charles II, and an excellent 
portrait of that selfish, indolent, and sensual, but witty 
and good-natured monarch. His chief favourite, George 
Villiers, the second Duke of Buckingham, is painted in 
no more flattering colours. He was a statesman of fickle 

335 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

character who could not long be trusted by any one. 
He was a writer of verses, farces, and comedies, a 
musician, and a man of great talent and accomplish- 
ments; but he was a profligate, absolutely insincere 
and without principle. 

'Peveril of the Peak' cannot be considered one of 
Scott's best novels. It has never been popular. Scott 
himself tired of it, and even Lockhart can find little to 
say in its praise. 

Lady Louisa Stuart, who was one of Scott's most 
valued friends, summarized it all, at the end of a good- 
natured criticism, with the remark : ' However, in all this 
I recognize the old habit of a friend of mine, growing 
tired before any of his readers, huddling up a conclusion 
anyhow, and so kicking the book out of his way; which 
is a provoking trick, though one must bear it rather 
than not have his book, with all its faults on its head. 
The best amends he can make is to give us another as 
soon as may be.' 



CHAPTER XXIV 

QUENTIN DURWAED 

The true 'Scott Country' is limited strictly to Scotland, 
England, and Wales. So long as he remained upon the 
soil of his own native kingdom, Sir Walter wrote of what 
he had seen and for the most part traversed only familiar 
ground. In Scotland, he was equally at home in the 
Lowlands or Highlands. He visited England often 
enough to know well the inspiring mountains of Cum- 
berland and Westmoreland, the hills and valleys of 
Northumberland, the broad expanse of Yorkshire, with 
its delightful scenery and many historical associations, 
the moorlands of Derby, the charming roads and pleas- 
ant villages of Nottingham, Leicester, Warwick, and 
Oxford, and the highways and by-ways of the ever- 
fascinating London. With the history, the legends and 
the poetry of his own country he was as familiar as a 
child would be with the environment of his own home. 
They were a part of the mental equipment that had 
been developing steadily from the time he was three 
years old. 

When he stepped out of this familiar region, for the 
first time, there came a remarkable change, and in Janu- 
ary, 1823, when he began the composition of 'Quentin 
Durward,' we find him floundering about in a sea of 
gazetteers, atlases, histories, and geographies. On the 
23d of that month he wrote to Constable: — 'It is a vile 
place, this village of Plessis les Tours, that can baffle 

337 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

both you and me. It is a place famous in history . . . yet 
I have not found it in any map, provincial or general, 
which I have consulted. . . . Instead of description 
holding the place of sense, I must try to make such sense 
as I can find, hold the place of description.' 

Fortunately he had the assistance of his friend Skene, 
who about this time returned from a tour in France, and 
placed at the disposal of the author a great variety of 
sketches of landscapes and ancient buildings, besides a 
journal full of accurate notes; for the novelist's artist- 
friend knew from long companionship exactly what 
would be most appreciated. 

Though a stranger in a strange land, Scott was not 
entirely alone, for he took with him into the unknown 
country three good Scotchmen, namely, Quentin Dur- 
ward, whom he made an archer in the Scots Guard of 
King Louis XI; the picturesque and interesting Le 
Balafre, Quentin's uncle, already a guardsman; and 
Lord Crawford, the aged commander of the guard, a 
Scotch nobleman, whose great ability and experience 
had won the esteem and confidence even of the suspi- 
cious King. This was surely a stroke of genius. The old 
Scotch friends of the novelist could not help following 
with interest the thrilling adventures of their country- 
men in a foreign land, while, on the other hand, the tale 
raised up a host of new admirers in France and through- 
out the Continent. The Frenchmen saw with amaze- 
ment King Louis XI and Charles the Bold suddenly 
come to life and, under the skilful direction of the Scot- 
tish Wizard, walk about again amidst some of the most 
stirring scenes of European history. Not in all their 
literature had the French people seen such striking por- 

338 



QUENTIN DURWARD 

traiture of these famous men nor such vivid pictures of 
the ancient manners of their own people. 

A line, nearly straight, drawn diagonally across the 
map of France and Belgium, representing a distance of 
perhaps three hundred and fifty miles, will fairly suggest 
the geography of 'Quentin Durward.' Its southwestern 
extremity would be Tours, about one hundred and forty- 
five miles from Paris. It would pass through Peronne, 
in the north of France directly east of Amiens; then 
dropping slightly to the south, and across the border of 
Belgium would reach its northeastern termination in the 
city of Liege. 

The town of Tours was much favoured in the fifteenth 
century by the frequent visits of Charles VII, Louis XI, 
and Charles VIII, in consequence of which it then 
reached its highest state of prosperity. It was long 
famed for its silk industry, founded by Louis XL Two 
miles west of the town, on a low marshy plain between 
the rivers Loire and Cher, and close by a hamlet of a 
few scattered cottages, is the famous Castle of Plessis les 
Tours, where the action of the story begins. Only a frag- 
ment of the original structure now remains, as part of a 
modern chateau. 

The old castle looked more like a prison than a king's 
palace, and seemed well adapted to be the den of the 
'universal spider,' as Louis came to be called, from 
which he could weave his dangerous web in every direc- 
tion and ensnare the feet of those whom he selected for 
his prey. It was in this dismal place that Louis XI shut 
himself in the last days of his life, weak from illness and 
pain and almost insane from distrust. Here he died, in 
1483, to the great joy of the kingdom. 

339 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Every year he had added new walls and ditches to his 
fortress. The towers were covered with iron as a protec- 
tion against arrows. Eighteen hundred heavy planks 
bristling with nails were placed outside the ditches to 
impede the approach of cavalry. Four hundred cross- 
bowmen manned the towers and the villainous Tristan 
l'Hermite had full authority to seize and hang any 
innocent stranger whom he might choose to suspect. 

As I write, I have before me two pictures: — one a 
contemporary print of the ancient castle, the other a 
portrait of the King. The former, a group of low, irregu- 
lar buildings, with slanting roofs and small barred win- 
dows, having a chapel attached to one end, contains 
nothing whatever to suggest a royal palace. The latter 
shows the face of a sly, cunning, unscrupulous plotter, 
full of cruelty, baseness, vulgarity, and hypocrisy, yet 
terribly in earnest and revealing the features that mark 
an irresistible will. I can almost fancy a resemblance 
between the two pictures. The mean unpretentiousness 
of the castle and its lack of symmetry suggest the unpre- 
possessing appearance of the King, whose whole aspect 
was vulgar, his clothing purposely plain and often un- 
tidy and his manners completely devoid of dignity and 
common courtesy. Its numerous defences, including 
turrets, battlements, ditches, and drawbridges, suggest 
the constant fear of treachery in which the King lived, 
never daring to regard his most intimate companions 
with aught but jealous suspicion. The real strength of 
the fortress, in spite of its ugliness and apparent insig- 
nificance are typical of the tremendous power of this 
monarch, who pursued his purposes without regard to 
truth, decency, honour, or human rights, reducing the 

340 



QUENTIN DURWARD 

people to a state of abject poverty and misery, yet 
enlarging the borders of France to nearly their present 
extent, reorganizing the army, centralizing the govern- 
ment, and laying the foundations of the nation in its 
modern form. 

One might almost indulge the whimsical notion that 
the little chapel to which I have referred, pointing 
heavenward with an attenuated spire of absurdly slen- 
der proportions, symbolizes the King's own feeble 
efforts to point in the same direction. His piety was 
manifested by a dozen 'paltry figures of saints stamped 
in lead' which he wore on the band of his hat. He 
endeavoured to atone for the most atrocious acts of 
selfishness and cruelty by gifts of money and outward 
penance, continuing his wickedness all the while, but 
apologizing for it in his prayers to the saints. But the 
crowning act of hypocritical piety, as well as the most 
absurd, was his attempt to insure his ultimate salvation 
by the unique expedient of creating the Virgin Mary a 
countess and an honorary colonel of his guards. 

This was the strange, but intensely interesting, char- 
acter, whom Scott, making free use of the ' Memoirs of 
Philippe de Comines,' one of the King's most intimate 
councillors, succeeded in portraying so vividly that the 
tale of which he is the real hero has won universal 
recognition as a novel of genuine historical value. 

A few miles southeast of Tours is the ruin of a castle 
still more terrible in its suggestiveness than even Plessis, 
for here Louis XI perpetrated deeds of secret cruelty, 
which he shrank from committing within the walls of his 
own palace. It is the Castle of Loches, for many years 
a royal residence. It is interesting to Scotchmen from 

34i 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

the fact that it was the scene of the royal wedding of 
King James V to the Princess Magdalene, in whose 
honour the Palace of Linlithgow was remodelled and 
greatly embellished. 

The castle is now a pile of ruined buildings, standing 
on the summit of a lofty rock, where it dominates the 
landscape. Its principal tower is one hundred and 
twenty feet high, with walls eight feet thick. Its date is 
said to be the twelfth century. A part of it is now the 
local jail, and the building has been used as a prison for 
centuries. Beneath were dungeons under dungeons, 
dimly lighted by narrow windows, cut through small 
recesses in the walls, which are here ten or twelve feet 
thick. In two of these were the iron cages invented by 
Cardinal John de La Balue. He was a cobbler, some say a 
tailor, whom Louis elevated to the highest rank and em- 
ployed in his secret devices. The cage'was built of iron 
bars and was only eight feet square. The Cardinal 
proved a traitor to his king and the latter's severity kept 
him in the dungeon cells for eleven years, a part of 
which time, at least, was spent in one of the cages of his 
own invention. The governor and gaoler of this dreaded 
prison was Oliver le Daim, the King's barber and 
prime minister. 

The events culminating in the murder of the Bishop 
of Liege were, of course, purely fictitious. Scott did not 
hesitate to 'violate history,' as he afterward expressed 
it, to meet the requirements of his story. The actual 
murder of the Bishop occurred in 1482, fourteen years 
after the period of the novel and five years after the 
death of Charles the Bold. William de la Marck, called 
the 'Wild Boar of Ardennes,' wishing to place the mitre 

342 



QUENTIN DURWARD 

on the head of his own son, entered into a conspiracy 
with some of the rebellious citizens of Liege, against 
their Bishop, Louis de Bourbon. The latter was enticed 
to the edge of the town, where he was met by the fierce 
and bloodthirsty knight, who murdered him with his 
own hand and caused the body to be exposed naked in 
St. Lambert's Place, before the cathedral. Scott's ver- 
sion, never intended to be historically accurate, places 
the scene of the murder in the fictitious Castle of Schon- 
waldt, outside the city. 

The description of the meeting of Louis XI and Charles 
the Bold at the town of Peronne and the King's impri- 
sonment in the castle, while somewhat amplified with 
fictitious details, is in the essential facts quite in accord 
with history. Peronne is a small town of great antiquity, 
ninety-four miles northeast of Paris, in the Department 
of the Somme. Its castle still retains four conical-roofed 
towers in fairly good repair. On the ground floor are 
many dark and dismal dungeons. In one of these miser- 
able cells Charles the Simple, in the year 929, ended his 
days in agony. He was confined in the tower by the 
treachery of Herbert, Count of Vermandois, and left 
there to starve to death. Adjoining this room, in what 
is known as the Tour Herbert, is the chamber said to 
have been occupied by Louis XL 

Great was the surprise and alarm among the retainers 
of Louis when that monarch, trusting to an exaggerated 
notion of his own wit and powers of persuasion, pro- 
posed to visit his most formidable adversary, Charles of 
Burgundy, at the town of Peronne. The latter granted 
the King's request for a safe-conduct, and Louis set 
forth in October, 1482, accompanied by a small detach- 

343 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

ment of his Scots Guard and men-at-arms, and two 
faithless councillors, the Constable de St. Pol and the 
Cardinal de La Balue. The Duke met the King outside 
the town and together they walked in apparent friend- 
liness to the house of the Chamberlain, Charles apologiz- 
ing for not taking the King to the castle because it was 
not in fit condition. Some portion of the Duke's army 
arrived the same day and encamped outside the walls. 
Learning this, the King became greatly frightened and 
demanded quarters in the castle — a request which 
Charles granted with great, but secret, glee. The next 
day brought forth nothing but ill-feeling and misun- 
derstanding, which was brought to a climax by the 
news from Liege. It was reported that the emissaries of 
Louis had stirred up sedition against the Duke, and had 
killed the Bishop of Liege, and the Lord of Humber- 
court. Charles was a man of tremendous passions and 
this news threw him into a fury which he made little 
attempt to control. His royal guest became his prisoner, 
the gates of the town and the castle were closed, and for 
a time Louis was in danger of his life at the hands of his 
enraged vassal. Louis, meanwhile, remained calm, mak- 
ing full use of his native shrewdness, keenness of pene- 
tration, and unusual cunning. By a liberal use of money, 
with which he had sagaciously provided himself, the 
Duke's servants were corrupted wherever he could hope 
to secure information or assistance. His craftiness, 
however, proved unnecessary. Charles cooled off after a 
day or two and realized that he could not well afford to 
violate his safe-conduct. Meanwhile the news from 
Liege turned out more favourably. The Bishop had not 
been slain and the revolt had been less serious than 

344 



QUENTIN DURWARD 

supposed. Charles, however, compelled the King to 
swear a new treaty, which Louis did by taking from 
one of his boxes a piece of the 'true cross,' a relic, for- 
merly belonging, so it was said, to Charlemagne, which 
Louis regarded with great veneration. The oath upon 
the cross duly made, Louis accompanied his captor on 
an expedition against the town of Liege, the particulars 
of which were not essentially different from the version 
of Scott. 

The novel brings out to great advantage the striking 
contrast between the King and the Duke. Charles was 
strong, vigorous, clear-sighted, and in the words of 
Philippe de Comines, 'a great and honourable prince, 
as much esteemed for a time amongst his neighbours as 
any prince in Christendom.' The great fault of his char- 
acter was that expressed in the sobriquet, Charles the 
Rash; and this was the cause of his downfall. That, 
however, is a tale which Scott reserved for a later 
novel. 

Though received at first with apparent indifference, 
'Quentin Durward' came in time to be regarded as 
one of the best of the Waverley Novels, dividing the 
honours, in the minds of the boys, at least, with 
'Ivanhoe' and 'The Talisman.' 



CHAPTER XXV 

ST. ronan's well 

If, as I have said in the preceding chapter, the true 
Scott Country comprises the United Kingdom, except 
Ireland, the inner circle of that country, the Sanctum 
Sanctorum, so to speak, must be considered as including 
that part of Scotland lying between the Firth of Forth 
and the English border; or, more strictly, the counties 
of Edinburgh, Peebles, Selkirk, and Roxburgh. This was 
Scott's home, his workshop, and his playground. From 
the spring of 1806 to the early winter of 1830, a period of 
nearly twenty-five years, he performed the duties of 
Clerk of the Court of Session. This required his pres- 
ence in Edinburgh usually from the 12 th of May to the 
12 th of July and from the 12 th of November to the 12 th 
of March, excepting an interval at Christmas. This 
meant from four to six hours' work a day for four or 
five days each week, extending over about six months 
of every year. During the sessions of the court his resi- 
dence was No. 39, North Castle Street, a three-story 
stone dwelling-house, within sight of Edinburgh Castle. 
The day after the rising of the court usually found its 
distinguished clerk ready to 'escape to the country.' 
For six years his retreat was the little thatched cottage 
at Lasswade, in the vale of the Esk. The next eight 
summers found him at Ashestiel, and after that Abbots- 
ford was the lodestone that drew him from the city. 
Scott loved the wide sweep of the bare hills, especially 

346 



ST. RONAN'S WELL 

when tinged with the purple hue of the heather. Their 
pure air was the tonic which had saved his life, when as 
a child he rolled about on the rocks of Smailholm, a 
companion of the sheep and lambs. Their streams gave 
him an opportunity to lure the salmon from their hiding- 
places. Their rounded summits gave him many a dis- 
tant view of battle-fields, famed in the Border warfare, 
which filled up centuries of Scottish and English history. 
Their pleasant glens and thickets gave him delightful 
walks in the woods. Their hospitable cottages extended 
him a never failing welcome, and yielded up to him, 
from the lips of hundreds of old wives, a treasure of 
Scottish ballads, songs, and tales of Border chivalry. 
Their castles and mansions threw open their doors at his 
approach, rivalling the humbler dwellings in the cordial- 
ity of their greeting. 

No wonder Scott loved the Border country. 'It may 
be partiality,' said he to Washington Irving, 'but to my 
eye, these grey hills and all this wild Border country 
have beauties peculiar to themselves. I like the very 
nakedness of the land; it has something bold, and stern, 
and solitary about it. When I have been for some time 
in the rich scenery about Edinburgh, which is like orna- 
mented garden land, I begin to wish myself back again 
among my own honest grey hills; and if I did not see the 
heather at least once a year, I think I should die!' 

It was while riding with Lockhart and Willie Laidlaw, 
along the brow of the Eildon Hills, looking down upon 
Melrose, one fine afternoon in July, 1823, that the sug- 
gestion came which led eventually to 'St. Ronan's 
Well.' 'Quentin Durward' had recently appeared and 
Scott, commenting upon its reception, remarked that he 

347 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

could probably do something better with a German sub- 
ject. 'Na, na, sir,' protested Laidlaw, ' take my word for 
it, you are always best, like Helen MacGregor, when 
your foot is on your native heath; and I have often 
thought that if you were to write a novel, and lay the 
scene here in the very year you were writing it, you 
would exceed yourself.' 'Hame 's hame,' smilingly 
assented Scott, 'be it ever sae hamely. There's some- 
thing in what you say, Willie.' Although Laidlaw insisted 
that his friend should 'stick to Melrose in July, 1823,' 
Scott took a little broader field and made the scene of 
'St. Ronan's Well,' the valley of the Tweed. 

This was the country which he had pictured in 'The 
Lay of the Last Minstrel,' at the very beginning of his 
fame. He had come back to it for a bit of the scenery 
of 'The Monastery' and 'The Abbot.' These, however, 
were romances of an earlier period. He was now for the 
first time to write of his own country in his own time. 
The tale was to depict society life, not of the wholesome 
and genuine kind to which Scott was personally accus- 
tomed, whether in Edinburgh or the country, but of the 
type he had seen at various watering-places and sum- 
mer resorts which he had visited. 

'St. Ronan's Well' may be considered a true picture 
of this society or a caricature, according to one's own 
sympathies. Some of its readers have been able to find 
among their own 'social set,' Lady Penelope Penfeather, 
Sir Bingo and Lady Binks, Mr. Winterblossom, Dr. 
Quackleben, and even the 'man of peace,' Captain 
Mungo MacTurk, and have praised or condemned the 
author's portraits according to their own predilections 
toward such personages. 

348 



ST. RONAN'S WELL 

Scott saw something of this life at Gilsland in the 
memorable summer of 1797, the year when he met Miss 
Carpenter at the dance in Shaw's Hotel. Below the 
hostelry is a deep and attractive glen, through which 
flows the river Irthing, and just above the bridge span- 
ning the river, is one of those mineral springs, which 
have the strange power, whatever may be their medicinal 
virtues, of drawing hundreds of people away from their 
homes in the summer months. There is another of these 
springs at Innerleithen, on the banks of the Tweed, and 
for this reason — for I can see no other — the people of 
that town have laid claim to the honour of residing in 
the original 'St. Ronan's.' 

Innerleithen, now a prosperous town of about three 
thousand inhabitants, is situated amid the hills which 
border the Tweed in the most picturesque part of its 
course. In Scott's time it was only a small village. 
Traquair, on the contrary, a few miles to the south, 
was of more importance in Scott's time than now, when 
it is a mere hamlet, remarkable for nothing except the 
fine old feudal mansion to which I have previously re- 
ferred. 1 If we are to think of Innerleithen, then, as the 
'ancient and decayed village of St. Ronan's' we must 
picture it, not as the thriving commercial town of to-day, 
but more like its neighbour on the south. 

Of course I felt anxious to taste the waters of the real 
St. Ronan's Well, and made a journey to Innerleithen 
for the purpose. I gained nothing beyond the experience 
of exchanging a good shilling for a bad drink. One taste 
was enough, and when the girl was n't looking I threw 
the rest away. I found an old two-story house in the 
1 See ante, p. 106, Chapter vm, ' Waverley.' 

349 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

town which claims to be the original 'Cleikum Inn' — 
a claim which is disputed by a public house in Peebles, 
'The Cross Keys Hotel,' formerly a pretentious seven- 
teenth-century mansion. The latter was kept in Scott's 
time by a maiden lady named Marian Ritchie, who 
seems to have possessed some of the characteristics 
which the novelist exaggerated in his delightfully 
humorous picture of Meg Dods. She found fault with 
the new 'hottle,' and did not hesitate to vent her sar- 
casm upon those travellers who ventured to stay there in 
preference to her own respectable inn. Scott, according 
to local history, was occasionally one of her guests. She 
ruled with a rod of iron, permitting no excesses, and did 
not hesitate to send a young man 'hame to his mither' 
if she suspected him to be imbibing too freely. Scott 
gave this model landlady the real name of a hostess 
whom he had patronized when only seventeen years old. 
It was on a fishing excursion to a loch near Howgate, in 
the Moorfoot Hills, when Scott and three of his boon 
companions stopped at a little public-house kept by 
Mrs. Margaret Dods. It was thirty-five years later 
when, in writing 'St.Ronan'sWell' the novelist adopted 
the name of the real landlady for his fictitious char- 
acter. 

So far as the rival claimants of the 'Cleikum Inn' 
honours are concerned, I do not believe that Scott had 
any particular house in mind, either for the 'inn,' or the 
'hottle.' Nor can I find any evidence of the existence of 
an 'original' for Shaw's Castle, the family seat of the 
Mowbrays, though Raeburn House, near St. Boswell's 
Green may be taken as a excellent type. The same 
doubt applies to the village of St. Ronan's itself. Scott's 

35° 



ST. RONAN'S WELL 

design seems to have been merely to place the scene of 
his story, broadly speaking, in the valley of the Tweed. 

This picturesque stream rises in the high lands near 
Moffat and flows north through a country still wild 
and solitary. A score of miles or less from its source, it 
makes a bend toward the east, above the town of Pee- 
bles, and from this point, until it discharges its waters 
into the North Sea at Berwick, there is scarcely a bend 
in the river or a village or town on its banks that does 
not suggest memories of Sir Walter Scott. 

From the high ground overlooking the river, just at 
the point where it bends to the east, we had a view, 
through the trees, of surpassing beauty. Below was the 
ancient Castle of Neidpath, once a scene of stately 
splendour, when nobles and monarchs frequented its 
halls, and richly attired ladies promenaded in the well- 
kept gardens, laden with the perfume and brilliant with 
the hues of many flowers; when well-ordered terraces 
lined the banks of the stream and orchards smiled from 
the surrounding hillsides. Amid such scenes the 'Maid 
of Neidpath' sat in the tower, — 

To watch her love's returning — 

and broke her heart when the lover came and passed 
with heedless gaze — 

As o'er some stranger glancing. 1 

Time and Nature, working together as landscape 
artists, have converted the castle into a picturesque 
ruin, and replaced the artificial gardens and terraces 
with thick groves of fine old trees, clothing the hillsides 

1 The Maid of Neidpath, 1806. 
351 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

with a richer and deeper verdure, and leaving only the 
river as of yore, still brightening the scene with the 
sparkle of its silvery tide. In the distance we could see 
the spires and chimneys of Peebles. 

Following the river, we passed Innerleithen, six miles 
below Peebles, and a short distance beyond we paused 
for a moment to look toward the ruins of Elibank, high 
up on the hillside. This was Scott's favourite objective 
point for a summer afternoon walk from Ashestiel, and 
the scene of the famous legend of ' Muckle-Mouthed 
Meg.' 1 Two miles farther on is Ashestiel, where Scott 
spent many happy summers. Keeping the left bank we 
soon came to a place where we could see Abbotsford on 
the opposite side of the river — and a charming view it 
makes. Then comes Melrose with all its varied asso- 
ciations. Driving toward the east, we ascended a hill 
near the summit of Bemerside Heights and halted to 
enjoy 'Scott's favourite view.' Below was a bend of 
the river marking the site of Old Melrose, the establish- 
ment which preceded the more pretentious abbey in the 
village. Far away were the summits of the Eildon Hills. 
On the day of Scott's funeral, the procession climbed 
this hill on the way to Dryburgh Abbey, the hearse 
being drawn by Sir Walter's own coach-horses. At the 
spot where we were standing, it is said, the faithful ani- 
mals halted of their own accord, not knowing that their 
master could no longer enjoy his favourite view. 

We soon came to the beautiful ruins of Dryburgh 

Abbey, where Scott lies buried. It is a place he was 

fond of visiting, so much so that in a letter to Miss 

Carpenter, before they were married, he referred to it 

1 See ante, Chapter i, page 36. 

352 




scott's tomb, dryburgh 



ST. RONAN'S WELL 

with enthusiasm, adding, 'When I die, Charlotte, you 
must cause my bones to be laid there.' This brought a 
lively reply from the young lady: ' What an idea of yours 
was that to mention where you wished to have your 
bones laid. If you were married, I should think you 
were tired of me. A very pretty compliment before 
marriage. . . . Take care of yourself if you love me, as I 
have no wish that you should visit that beautiful and 
romantic scene, the burying-place.' 

Still farther to the east lies Kelso, where Scott spent 
several summers with a relative and attended the village 
school; while in the valley below lie the principal scenes 
of ' Marmion.' In the hills to the north, between Melrose 
and Kelso, is Sandy Knowe, the farm of the poet's 
grandfather, where the fresh air of the Scottish hills 
gave a new lease of life to the child of three years. 
Some recollections of these early days found their way 
into 'St. Ronan's Well,' published nearly half a century 
later. A frequent visitor at the fireside of Sandy Knowe 
was the parish clergyman, Dr. Duncan, who perhaps 
failed to appreciate the presence of a poet in embryo. 
Scott had early committed to memory long passages 
from Ramsay's 'Tea-Table Miscellany' and one or two 
other favourite volumes, which he would shout at the 
top of his voice, regardless of the presence of the good 
minister, who would testily exclaim, ' One may as well 
speak in the mouth of a cannon as where that child is.' 
The old gentleman lived to be nearly ninety. 'He was,' 
says Scott, 'a most excellent and benevolent man, a 
gentleman in every feeling, and altogether different from 
those of his order who cringe at the tables of the gentry 
or domineer and riot at those of the yeomanry.' There 

353 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT. 

seems to be no doubt that in the personage of Mr. Josiah 
Cargill, the shy, absent-minded, but learned and con- 
scientious, and always lovable, clergyman of ' St. Ronan's 
Well,' Scott drew a portrait of the excellent divine whom 
he had learned to respect in his early days. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

REDGAUNTLET 

I was standing, one afternoon, among some rugged 
rocks, half covered with sand and seaweed, which lined 
the shores of the Solway Firth, when my attention was 
suddenly attracted by a large black horse ridden by a 
woman. They were far away from shore and the animal 
seemed to be lightly cantering over the surface of the 
water. I suddenly realized the peculiar characteristic of 
the Solway. The tide was going out and what seemed to 
be the surface of a wide, inland sea was in reality a 
broad stretch of glistening white sand, still wet enough 
to catch and reflect the rays of the sun. 

In spite of the fact that the rider was a woman, I was 
reminded of the thrilling incident that marks one of the 
earlier chapters of 'Redgauntlet.' Darsie Latimer had 
wandered out in the late afternoon over the wet sands of 
the Solway, watching with great interest the exertions 
of some horsemen, who were intent upon the sport of 
spearing salmon. The ebb of the tide leaves numberless 
little pools, formed by the inequality of the surface, and 
in these the fish dart about, making frantic efforts to 
escape to deeper water. The horsemen chase the salmon 
at full gallop, striking at them with their spears, — a 
form of amusement requiring great skill and perfect 
horsemanship. The riders had ceased their sport and 
were returning to the shore, while Darsie lingered on the 
sands. Suddenly he heard an abrupt voice, calling out, 

355 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

'Soho, brother! you are late for Bowness to-night'; and, 
turning, recognized the most expert of the salmon 
fishers, a tall man riding a powerful black horse. Darsie 
replied that he was a stranger and about to return to 
the shore. 'Best make haste, then,' said the fisherman. 
' He that dreams on the bed of the Solway, may wake in 
the next world. The sky threatens a blast that will 
bring in the waves three feet abreast.' The young man, 
not realizing the danger, had to be warned a third time, 
and finally was pulled up on the horse behind his rescuer, 
who was compelled to gallop to safety at full speed. 

At a later time, the tall fisherman, who proved to be 
Hugh Redgauntlet, kidnapped young Latimer, whom he 
had recognized as his long-lost nephew, and carried him 
in a cart across the Solway to England. While lying on 
his back upon some sacks of straw, his arms and legs 
tightly bound with cloth bandages, Darsie again heard 
the rush of the advancing tide. He 'not only heard the 
roar of this dreadful torrent, but saw, by the fitful 
moonlight, the foamy crests of the devouring waves, 
as they advanced with the speed and fury of a pack of 
hungry wolves.' One or two of the great waves of the 
' howling and roaring sea ' had reached the cart, when he 
was again rescued by Redgauntlet in much the same 
manner as before. 

The reality of these fearful tides exceeds even Scott's 
vivid description. In a volume published more than 
eighty years ago 1 by a local writer, I find this account : — 

During spring tides, and particularly when impelled by 
a strong southwester, the Solway rises with prodigious 

1 Picture of Dumfries, with Historical and Descriptive Notices, by 
John McDiarmid, 1832. 

356 



REDGAUNTLET 

rapidity. A loud booming noise indicates its approach, and 
is distinguishable at the distance of several miles. At 
Caerlaverock and Glencaple, where it enters the Nith, the 
scene is singularly grand and imposing; and it is beautiful to 
see a mighty volume of water advancing, foam-crested, and 
with a degree of rapidity which, were the race a long one, 
would outmatch the speed of the swiftest horses. The tide- 
head, as it is called, is often from four to six feet high, chafed 
into spray, with a mighty trough of bluer water behind — 
swelling in some places into little hills, and in others scooped 
into tiny valleys, which, when sunlit, form a brilliant picture 
of themselves. From the tide-head proceed two huge jets 
of water, which run roaring along, searching the banks on 
either side — the antennae, as it were, which the ocean puts 
forth, and by which it feels its way when confined within 
narrow limits. A large fire-engine discharging a strong 
stream of water bears a close resemblance to this part of the 
phenomena of a strong spring tide; but the sea- water is 
broken while the other is smooth, and runs hissing, or 
rather gallops, along in a manner to which no language of 
ours can do justice. 

Between Bowness, the northernmost point of Cum- 
berland, and Whinnyrig, south of Annan in Dumfries- 
shire, the Solway is only two miles wide. It is now safely 
crossed by a railroad bridge, but two generations ago 
the Scottish farmers and dealers were in the habit of 
crossing the sands at low tide to save a long and tedious 
detour of about thirty miles by way of Carlisle. Many a 
belated traveller, missing his way in the darkness or the 
fog, has been overtaken by the tide and lost. 

All the scenes of 'Redgauntlet,' except those in Edin- 
burgh and Dumfries, are laid near the shores of the 
Solway. Shepherd's Bush and Brokenburn, imaginary 
places, of course, may be considered to be somewhere 
on the Scottish side near Annan. Mount Sharon, the 

357 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

residence of the kind-hearted Joshua Geddes, supposed 
to be in the same vicinity, was really modelled after some 
pleasant recollections of the author's boyhood at Kelso. 
It was a place of quiet contentment, where one might 
wander through fields and pastures and woodlands 
by convenient paths amid scenes of peaceful beauty. 
Even the partridges and the hares had learned the 
kindly nature of the good Quaker and his amiable sister, 
and did not fear their approach. 

Scott drew the charming picture of the Quaker 
household from his early friendship for the Waldie 
family in Kelso. Their son Robert was one of his school- 
fellows. He spent many happy hours in their hospitable 
home, where he was treated with the utmost kindness 
by Robert's mother, universally known in the neighbour- 
hood as Lady Waldie. A privilege which Scott particu- 
larly appreciated was the permission to 'rummage at 
pleasure' through the small but well-selected library 
which the good lady's deceased husband had left her. 

On the English side of the Solway, the Wampool 
River, where the Jumping Jenny landed Alan Fairford, 
along with a cargo of contraband goods, including gun- 
powder for the use of the Jacobites, may be easily found 
on the map. The English scenes were laid between here 
and Carlisle, but the story of the visit to this region of 
Charles Edward, disguised as Father Buonaventure, is 
pure fiction, and of course the localities cannot be 
identified, except Burgh-upon-Sands, where there is a 
monument to Edward I, to which Hugh Redgauntlet 
refers as the party is passing by. 

The English residence of Hugh Redgauntlet to which 
Darsie was conducted by his captor, described as ancient 

358 



REDGAUNTLET 

and strong, with battlemented roof and walls of great 
thickness, but otherwise resembling a comfortable farm- 
house, is purely fictitious. We visited, however, on the 
Scottish side of the Solway, a splendid modern castle, 
which, judged by an old painting of the place as it was 
in 1789, would admirably fit the description. This is 
Hoddam Castle, five miles southwest of the village of 
Ecclefechan, Carlyle's birthplace, where we spent a 
night in one of the quaintest little inns in Scotland, a 
survival of the time when Scottish inns offered few com- 
forts to the traveller, but made up for it in proffered 
sociability. 

Hoddam Castle is beautifully situated in the midst 
of a grove of fine trees overlooking the river Annan. A 
battlemented tower, surmounted by conical turrets, 
rises high above the extensive modern structure sur- 
rounding it. This is the ancient building, for centuries 
occupied by the Herries family. Scott originally in- 
tended to call his novel 'Herries' instead of 'Red- 
gauntlet,' and was with much difficulty persuaded by 
Constable to accept the latter title. The old castle was 
built in the fifteenth century by John, Lord Herries, to 
whom was granted an extensive tract of land, extending 
over three or four counties. 

The Herries family, to which Hugh Redgauntlet is 
supposed to belong, was always powerful. In their later 
years, like their fictitious descendant, its members were 
ardent supporters of the Stuart family. John Maxwell, 
who took the name of Lord Herries upon his marriage, 
was a zealous defender of Mary Queen of Scots. He 
assisted her escape from Loch Leven Castle, fought for 
her at Langside, escorted her, after the battle, to his 

359 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

own house in Galloway, and thence to Dundrennan 
Abbey, and finally conducted her, in a small vessel, to 
England. His descendant, William, the ninth Lord 
Herries and fifth Earl of Nithsdale, participated in the 
Jacobite uprising of 17 15. He was made a prisoner at 
Preston and sent to the Tower, where he was tried and 
condemned to death. His countess, with rare courage 
and resourcefulness, first forced her way to an audience 
with the King in St. James's Palace, and pleaded on her 
knees for her husband's life. Finding this ineffectual, 
she paid a last farewell visit to her husband, taking 
several lady friends with her. They succeeded in dis- 
guising the Earl in feminine apparel and thus effected his 
escape. When Darsie Latimer was obliged, at his 
uncle's command, to wear petticoats as a means of con- 
cealing his identity, he was only following the example 
of one of his ancestors. 

In 1690 the castle and Barony of Hoddam passed from 
the Herries family to John Sharpe, and remained in the 
hands of his heirs until very recent times. One of these 
was Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Scott's intimate 
friend, who helped collect the 'Minstrelsy of the Scot- 
tish Border,' to which he contributed two ballads. Scott 
was a frequent guest at his house, and he often dined 
with Scott's family in Edinburgh or at Abbotsford. He 
was a man of distinction in letters and an artist as well. 
Two well-known etchings by him, the 'Dish of Spurs' 
and ' Muckle-Mouthed Meg,' besides a caricature of 
Queen Elizabeth, adorn the walls of Abbotsford. His 
ancestors, like the Herries family, were ardent Jaco- 
bites. 

The Sharpes claimed relationship to the notorious 
360 



REDGAUNTLET 

Grierson of Lag, who was the original of Sir Robert 
Redgauntlet in ' Wandering Willie's Tale.' Sir Robert 
Grierson, who was born in 1655 and died in 1733, was 
an infamous scoundrel who took fiendish delight in per- 
secuting the Covenanters. In his drunken revels he made 
them the theme of scurrilous jests. In a vaulted chamber 
of his Castle of Lag, now in ruins, he had an iron hook 
upon which he hanged his prisoners. Often he would 
amuse himself by rolling his victims down a steep hill 
in barrels filled with knives and iron spikes. He was an 
object of terror and hatred through all the neighbouring 
country and for many years after his death was repre- 
sented in theatrical productions as a hideous monster. 
Scott heard in his youth the wild tales of the terrible 
Grierson, and made them the basis of the story told by 
Wandering Willie. 

If by Redgauntlet Castle we mean the house of the 
blind fiddler's hero, we must take for its original the 
ancient ruin of Lag Castle, built in the fourteenth cen- 
tury; but if the seat of the Herries family is meant, 
Hoddam Castle is of course the prototype, even though 
Scott places it on the English side of the Solway. 

A bit of scenery worth recalling in connection with this 
novel is the Marquis of Annandale's Beefstand, or as it 
is now called, the Devil's Beef Tub, the place where the 
Laird of Summertrees had his wonderful adventure, 
escaping from his captors by rolling, over and over, like 
a barrel, down the steep incline that leads to the bot- 
tom of the hollow. It is as lonely and desolate a spot as 
we saw anywhere in Scotland. The hills circle about to 
form a huge bowl, in the rim of which there is apparently 
no break, so that one wonders how the little brook at the 

361 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

bottom manages to find an outlet so as to remain a 
brook at all, instead of accumulating its waters to form 
a great natural lake. The old Border raiders used the 
hollow as a convenient place in which to collect stolen 
cattle. From the road on the rim it seems to be a dark, 
dismal hole, without sign of life except an occasional 
ring of earth and stone, built for the protection of the 
sheep. Scott knew personally a Jacobite gentleman, 
who escaped at this place in precisely the same manner 
as 'Pate-in-Peril,' while being taken to Carlisle a 
prisoner for participation in the 'affair of 1745.' 

' Redgauntlet ' is autobiographical to a greater extent 
than any other of Scott's novels. It is true that ' Waver- 
ley ' gives a hint of his own early love of reading, while 
'The Antiquary' reflects his interest in the relics of an 
older civilization. Indeed, bits of personal reminis- 
cence are woven into nearly all his tales. But 'Red- 
gauntlet' more directly reveals Scott himself and those 
nearest to him than any or all of the others. 

The voluminous correspondence of Alan Fairford and 
Darsie Latimer is full of recollections of school days in 
Edinburgh, when as a boy Scott climbed the 'kittle 
nine stanes, ' a difficult and dangerous passage over the 
steep granite rock upon which the castle stands, or 
helped 'man the Cowgate Port,' an ancient gateway to 
the city from which the youngsters in snowballing time 
annoyed the passers-by and defied the town guard. One 
of his most intimate companions in the days when he 
was reading law was William Clerk, whom he describes 
as a man of acute 'intellect and powerful apprehension,' 
but somewhat trammelled with 'the fetters of indolence.' 
There is no doubt that Scott himself was the original of 

362 



REDGAUNTLET 

Alan Fairf ord nor that William Clerk was the model for 
Darsie Latimer. The fine portrait of Saunders Fairford, 
who was so anxious to have his son ' attain the proudest 
of all distinctions — the rank and fame of a well-em- 
ployed lawyer,' was drawn from Scott's own father, 
many years after the death of that worthy gentleman. 

Mr. Saunders Fairford, . . . was a man of business of the 
old school, moderate in his charges, economical and even 
niggardly in his expenditure, strictly honest in conducting 
his own affairs and those of his clients, but taught by long 
experience to be wary and suspicious in observing the mo- 
tions of others. Punctual as the clock of St. Giles tolled 
nine, the neat dapper form of the little hale old gentleman 
was seen at the threshold of the Court-hall . . . trimly 
dressed in a complete suit of snuff-coloured brown, with 
stockings of silk or woolen, as suited the weather; a bob wig 
and a small cocked hat; shoes blacked as Warren would 
have blacked them; silver shoe-buckles and a gold stock- 
buckle. A nosegay in summer, and a sprig of holly in winter, 
completed his well-known dress and appearance. 

Even Peter Peebles, the poor old derelict, ruined by a 
lifetime of perpetual litigation, was a real character, 
well known in Edinburgh, and Scott himself, in com- 
mon with most young lawyers, took his turn in 'prac- 
tising' on this case. 

The re-introduction of Charles Edward, who was so 
fascinating as a figure in 'Waverley,' was not so suc- 
cessful. In the earlier novel, his movements are, in the 
main, historically accurate. His reappearance, twenty 
years later, under circumstances purely fictitious, is by 
comparison almost wholly lacking in interest. There is, 
however, a certain attractiveness about the enthusiasm 
of his ardent supporter, Hugh Redgauntlet, and the 

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THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

book is not lacking in minor characters, who are almost 
as fascinating as any of the novelist's earlier creations. 
Wandering Willie is one of these — the blind fiddler 
who holds communication with the captive Darsie, by 
the rendering of appropriate tunes, the words of which 
the latter is quick to recall and clever enough to inter- 
pret. Another is Nanty Ewart, the skipper of the 
Jumping Jenny, who can read his Sallust like a scholar, 
and appeals to one's sympathies in spite of his dissipa- 
tion. 

Although 'Redgauntlet' was at first received some- 
what coldly, it is nevertheless true, in the words of Lady 
Louisa Stuart, that 'the interest is so strong one cannot 
lay it down.' Its lack of value historically is more than 
offset by the personal interest of its characters and the 
many episodes of intense dramatic realism. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

TALES OF THE CRUSADERS 

The two stories published simultaneously under this 
title are widely different in character. In 'The Be- 
trothed,' the reader gets no glimpse of the Holy Land, 
though he is amply compensated by a view of some of the 
most delightful portions of picturesque Wales. In ' The 
Talisman,' on the contrary, not only is the whole of the 
stage-setting in Palestine, but our old friend, Richard 
the Lion-Hearted, who made such strong appeals to our 
sympathies in 'Ivanhoe,' appears once more on the 
scene. Perhaps this fact accounts for the great popu- 
larity of 'The Talisman,' which has always gone hand in 
hand with 'Ivanhoe,' in the estimation of the younger 
readers, at least, and possibly the older ones, especially 
in England and America, as among the most attractive 
of Scott's novels. 'The Betrothed' is no more a tale of 
the Crusades than is 'Ivanhoe.' In the former the Con- 
stable de Lacy is supposed to be absent in the Holy 
Land a few years and returns in disguise. King Richard 
does the same in 'Ivanhoe.' 

James Ballantyne, who was always a candid critic, 
found so much fault with 'The Betrothed' that Scott, 
bitterly disappointed, decided to cancel it altogether. 
The sheets were hung up in Ballantyne's warehouse, 
while Scott started a new tale which should be really a 
story of the Crusades. Ballantyne was as much pleased 
with 'The Talisman' as he had been disappointed with 

365 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

its predecessor. Both author and printer hesitated to 
destroy the sheets of an entire edition of the earlier pro- 
duction, and it was finally decided that 'The Talisman' 
was such a masterpiece that it might be relied upon to 
' take the other under its wing.' The publication of the 
two volumes as the 'Tales of the Crusaders' seemed to 
justify Ballantyne's faith, for, says Lockhart, 'The 
brightness of "The Talisman" dazzled the eyes of the 
million as to the defects of the twin story.' Whether 
this opinion would be endorsed by careful readers of 
to-day is doubtful, for 'The Betrothed' has some excel- 
lent characters, notably Eveline Berenger, Wilkin 
Flammock, and his daughter Rose, Hugo de Lacy, and 
his high-minded nephew Damian. Moreover, Scott 
here adds to his 'country' a bit of the United Kingdom, 
which he had not previously touched, and does it with 
his usual charm. 

The novelist's information regarding Welsh history 
and antiquities was derived largely from conversations 
with his friend, the Rev. John Williams, Archdeacon of 
Cardigan, who had made a special study of the subject. 
But he had always felt an interest in that region. ' There 
are,' he writes to Joanna Bailie in 1814, 'few countries 
I long so much to see as Wales. The first time I set out 
to see it I was caught by the way and married. God help 
me ! The next time, I went to London and spent all my 
money there. What will be my third interruption, I do 
not know, but the circumstances seem ominous.' 
Whether he actually saw the country before writing the 
novel is doubtful. He did visit it, however, in August of 
1825, just after 'The Betrothed' was published, and 
stopped at Llangollen, where he paid a visit to the 

366 



TALES OF THE CRUSADERS 

famous 'Ladies' of that place. These two old ladies, 
one seventy and the other sixty-five when Scott saw 
them, had 'eloped' together from Ireland, when they 
were young girls, one of them dressed as a footman in 
buckskin breeches. Valuing their liberty above all the 
allurements of matrimony, they made a secret journey 
to Wales, and for fifty years lived a quiet and comfort- 
able life in the beautiful vale of Llangollen. 

Local tradition assigns this lovely valley as the scene 
of 'The Betrothed.' Although this may be doubted, it 
is nevertheless fairly representative of what Scott evi- 
dently had in mind. The river Dee winds among a maze 
of low, partially wooded, and well-rounded hilltops, here 
and there finding its way through green meadows, set off 
by hedges of full-grown trees, and at each turn glistening 
in the sun like a broad ribbon of silver. 

I was induced to walk up a long sloping hillside for a 
distance of about three miles from the village, and was 
rewarded at the summit by a superb view of northern 
Wales, for many miles in every direction, and at the 
same time saw the ruins of the ancient Castell Dinas 
Bran. This, or something very like it, must have been 
the Garde Doloureuse of the novel. It certainly had all 
the natural advantages claimed for that ancient Welsh 
stronghold, for no army would have found it easy to 
ascend that hill in the face of a determined garrison. 
The ruin has the indications also of having been well 
fortified by the art of man, its walls enclosing an area 
two hundred and ninety feet long by one hundred and 
forty feet wide. 

The castle may have been built by the Britons before 
the Roman invasion. A well-founded tradition fixes it 

367 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

as the seat of Eliseg, Prince of Powys, in the eighth 
century, and it figures in actual history as early as 1 200, 
when it was the residence of a turbulent Welsh baron 
named Madog. 

At Welshpool, directly to the south and near the 
English border, we visited the magnificent park and 
castle of the Earl of Powis. It stands on the site of the 
ancient Castell Coch, or Red Castle, famous as the seat 
of the great Welsh hero, Gwenwynwyn, who flourished 
in the latter part of the twelfth and beginning of the 
thirteenth century. That hero, whom Scott calls 
Gwenwyn, it will be remembered, upon seeing for the 
first time the beautiful damsel of sixteen, Eveline 
Berenger, the only child of his greatest rival and the 
heir of the strong fortress which he coveted, promptly 
resolved to marry her, thus starting the train of events 
which are recorded in the novel. 

The present Powis Castle Park is a magnificent 
demesne of nearly a thousand acres. Its most im- 
portant portion is a great deer-park, in the midst of 
which stands the imposing modern palace. The herds of 
deer quietly feeding on the lawn were kind enough to 
pose for me, when I made a picture of the castle, and 
added greatly to its picturesque aspect. On the south, 
the sloping ground has been cut into broad and beauti- 
ful terraces, surmounted by huge yews, trimmed 
smoothly in conical form. The stone walls are broken by 
a series of arches, above which are balustrades and 
statuary in great variety. Clinging vines and garden 
flowers of every description add colour to the beauty of 
the arrangement. Below the terraces is a gentle slope, 
planted with fruit trees, and then a level lawn, in the 

368 



TALES OF THE CRUSADERS 

midst of which is a stately elm. The whole is a triumph 
of landscape gardening which would have amazed the 
famous Gwenwynwyn. 

Following the course of the tale our next objective 
was the city of Gloucester, the crowning glory of which 
is the great cathedral, founded by the Saxon earl, Osric, 
in 680 a.d. The massive Norman nave was commenced 
in 1088 and the fine choir was completed in the four- 
teenth century. The great east window, measuring 
seventy-two feet in height, thirty-eight feet in width, 
and containing two thousand seven hundred and thirty- 
six square feet of glass, is the largest in England if not in 
the world. Passing around the cathedral we found a 
house which figures in the story, — the Deanery, as it is 
now called. It was formerly the prior's lodge of the old 
Benedictine abbey, and is the oldest house in Gloucester. 
Within its walls a meeting of Parliament is said to have 
been held by Richard II. 

Of the scenery of ' The Talisman ' it is difficult to say 
much beyond what is generally known about the Holy 
Land. Scott never visited Palestine and wrote only in 
general terms. He did contrive, however, to inject a bit 
of Scottish scenery with which he was familiar, just as he 
managed to begin the novel with the adventures of a 
Scottish knight, and to find another countryman among 
the retainers of King Richard, in the person of Sir 
Thomas de Multon, the Lord of Gilsland, whose 'love 
and devotion to the King was like the vivid affection of 
the old English mastiff to his master.' 

Readers of 'The Talisman' will recall, in the mansion 
of the hermit of Engaddi, the beautiful miniature Gothic 
chapel, and will quickly note the resemblance to Roslin 

369 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Chapel, near Edinburgh. The famous feudal baron, 
William St. Clair, built the latter in a spirit of penitence. 
An old manuscript informs us that ' to the end he might 
not seem altogether unthankfull to God for the benefices 
received from Him, it came in his minde to build a house 
for God's service of most curious work, the which, that 
it might be done with greater glory and splendour he 
caused artificers to be brought from other regions and 
forraigne kingdoms and caused dayly to be abundance of 
all kinde of workemen present.' 

The foundation was laid in 1446. It is called 'florid 
Gothic' for want of a better name. There is no other 
architecture like it in the world. It is a medley of all 
architectures, the Egyptian, Grecian, Roman, and 
Saracenic being intermingled with all kinds of deco- 
rations and designs, some exquisitely beautiful and 
others quaint and even grotesque. There are thirteen 
different varieties of the arch. The owner possessed 
wealth and wanted novelty. He secured the latter by 
engaging architects and builders from all parts of Europe. 
The most striking feature of an interior crowded with 
beautiful forms is the 'Prentice's Pillar, a column with 
spiral wreaths of exquisitely carved foliage. 

It is curious to think of such a chapel as this con- 
cealed in a mysterious mansion in the desert of Engaddi, 
but it is the only touch of realistic description in the 
whole book, and Scott makes use of it with his usual 
skill. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

WOODSTOCK 

Between the completion of the 'Tales of the Crusaders' 
and the next novel, 'Woodstock/ came the distressing 
change in Scott's affairs, that set apart the remaining 
years of his life as a period of sadness, disappointment, 
grief, and physical pain. They were years of almost 
superhuman exertion, when the superb personal char- 
acter of the man, backed by an unconquerable will, tri- 
umphed over an accumulation of afflictions that would 
have broken the heart of an ordinary person. The vic- 
tory cost him his life — but it was only after a battle of 
six hard years, and even then it was the frail body and 
not the heart of the man that succumbed. 

In the year 1825, when 'Woodstock' was commenced, 
the old, happy days, when writing a story was a joyous 
pastime, came to an end forever, and in their stead 
came a sense of toil and conscious effort. 'It was a 
pleasant sight,' said Lockhart, 'when one happened to 
take a passing peep into his den, to see the white head 
erect, and the smile of conscious inspiration on his lips, 
while the pen, held boldly and at a commanding dis- 
tance, glanced steadily and gayly along a fast-blacken- 
ing page of "The Talisman." It now often made me 
sorry to catch a glimpse of him, stooping and poring 
with his spectacles, amidst piles of authorities, a little 
notebook ready in his left hand, that had always used 
to be at liberty for patting Maida.' 

37i 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

Lockhart is here referring to the vast toil required in 
the preparation of a 'Life of Napoleon/ which Scott 
had undertaken immediately after returning from the 
tour through Ireland and Wales, made soon after the 
completion of 'The Talisman.' It was the year when 
rumours of financial troubles in London began to reach 
his ears, followed swiftly by the failure of Constable 
and the Ballantynes, and later by the sickness and 
death of Lady Scott and his own physical suffering. 
Undaunted by misfortune he bravely continued his 
'Napoleon/ and soon conceived the idea of composing 
a work of imagination at the same time. The first of 
three volumes of 'Woodstock' was, under these trying 
circumstances, completed in fifteen days and the entire 
novel in three months. 

The news of Scott's distress had spread throughout 
Scotland and England and into many parts of Europe, 
and there was naturally a keen interest in the story which 
he was known to be writing. The announcement that 
Scott was the author of the Waverley Novels and that 
the man who had accomplished this marvellous success 
had met with financial failure came as a shock and a 
thrill. 'Scott ruined!' exclaimed the Earl of Dudley; 
'the author of "Waverley" ruined! Good God! Let 
every man to whom he has given months of delight give 
him a sixpence, and he will rise to-morrow morning richer 
than Rothschild!' The result of this state of the public 
mind was that 'Woodstock' was successful beyond the 
author's fondest dreams. 

The village of Woodstock, where practically the 
whole of the scene is laid, lies about eight miles north- 
west of Oxford. The market-place still has an ancient 

372 



WOODSTOCK 

look, though the houses are in fairly good repair. To 
readers of the novel the chief place of interest in the 
village is the old parish church where the Reverend 
Nehemiah Holdenough was rudely crowded from his 
pulpit by the canting Independent soldier, Trusty 
Tomkins, who proceeded to preach one of those weird 
sermons, common enough at that time, in which the 
texts of Scripture were perverted to apply to current 
events, with whatever significance the orator might 
choose. A fine Norman doorway on the south side 
marks the oldest part of the edifice, dating back proba- 
bly as far as the twelfth century. The north side is 
modern, having been built to replace the older walls 
that were torn down. The tower was built in 1783. 

The real interest of Woodstock lies not in the church 
nor the village, but in the vast park and palace, now 
called Blenheim, the property of the Duke of Marl- 
borough. As early as the reign of William the Con- 
queror, Woodstock was a royal forest, and was so 
designated in the Domesday Book. His son, Henry I, 
enclosed it with a wall six miles in circumference (not 
so large as its present extent) and rebuilt the house. It 
was here that Thomas a Becket in 1162 began the 
quarrel with King Henry II, which led to his murder at 
Canterbury. King Henry added to the old palace of 
Woodstock the famous tower and maze, where 'the 
fair Rosamond' might be safely concealed from the 
jealous eyes of Queen Eleanor. 'Rosamond's Well,' 
where Tomkins met his well-deserved death at the 
hands of Joceline Joliffe, is the only remnant of the old 
palace in existence. It is a spring, walled in and paved, 
and guarded by an iron fence. We drank of its waters 

373 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

and, following the instructions of the old woman who 
acts as its keeper, threw what was left in the glasses over 
our left shoulders 'for luck.' The well was originally 
within the walls of the palace, so that its occupant could 
obtain water without the risk of stepping outside. It 
may, therefore, be considered as marking approximately 
the site of the old palace. 

Richard the Lion-Hearted and John were visitors to 
Woodstock. Henry III made some improvements in 
the house. Edward III and Queen Philippa were much 
attached to Woodstock and often made it their resi- 
dence. It was during their reign that the poet Chaucer, 
who was first a page and later a royal 'esquire,' was 
frequently at Woodstock. He married one of the 
Queen's maids of honour, and lived in a house in the 
village which is still standing. As late as the time of 
James II, Woodstock continued to be occupied, as a 
favourite country seat, by the English sovereigns. 
During the great Civil War it was the scene of frequent 
skirmishes and in the time of the Commonwealth was 
in the possession of Cromwell. 

The fantastic performances by which the commission- 
ers of the Long Parliament were imposed upon and 
badly frightened when they visited Woodstock, after 
the execution of Charles I, for the purpose of destroying 
it, are fully explained in Scott's Introduction. 

In 1704, as a reward for his famous triumph in the 
battle of Blenheim, the victorious commander, John 
Churchill, was created first Duke of Marlborough, and 
presented with the vast estates of Woodstock. Queen 
Anne and the Parliament bestowed upon him in addition 
the princely sum of £240,000 with which to build a 

374 



WOODSTOCK 

mansion. Blenheim Palace is the finest work of the most 
famous architect of his day, Sir John Vanbrugh, who 
designed the building by command of the Queen. Its 
front extends, from wing to wing, three hundred and 
forty-eight feet. The style is Italo-Corinthian. Its 
spacious halls are filled with splendid tapestries and 
many valuable paintings. There is a long ballroom, 
equipped as a library at one end and with a great pipe- 
organ at the other. The park comprises two thousand 
six hundred acres, with many fine beeches, oaks, elms, 
cedars of Lebanon, and an avenue of lindens. The river 
Glyme, which flowed through the estate of Woodstock, 
was dammed by the landscape gardener of Blenheim 
and converted into a picturesque lake, over which is an 
imposing bridge. In a remote corner of the grounds we 
found the celebrated King's Oak, a fine old tree supposed 
to be at least a thousand years old. 

Two characters of 'Woodstock' stepped into the tale, 
direct from Scott's own household, thus giving a charm- 
ing personal touch to this novel in common with 'Red- 
gauntlet ' and several of the others. One of these is the 
fine old hound, Bevis. It seems curious, in view of 
Scott's fondness for his dogs, that not one of them should 
find a place in any of his stories until so late a period of 
his life. Bevis, however, made up for the previous 
omissions, and he is a splendid picture of Sir Walter's 
favourite staghound Maida, ' the noblest dog ever seen 
on the Border since Johnnie Armstrong's time.' So 
wrote Scott to his friend Terry, adding, ' He is between 
the wolf and deer greyhound, about six feet long from 
the tip of the nose to the tail, and high and strong in 
proportion. . . . Tell Will Erskine he will eat off his 

375 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

plate without being at the trouble to put a paw on the 

table or chair.' This noble animal, who for eight years 

enjoyed the distinction of daily companionship with one 

of the most appreciative masters who ever lived, came 

to his end in 1824, the year before 'Woodstock' was 

commenced. His image, sculptured in stone, had stood 

for a year or more by the door of the main entrance to 

Abbotsford, as a 'leaping-on' stone, which Scott found 

convenient in mounting his horse. Maida was buried 

beneath the stone, and an epitaph in Latin was carved 

around its base, Scott's English version of which 

reads: — 

Beneath the sculptured form which late you wore 
Sleep soundly, Maida, at your master's door. 

The other character from Scott's household was his 
daughter Anne — the Alice Lee of the novel. The same 
loving care which Alice bestowed upon her aged parent, 
Scott had felt at the hands of his youngest daughter. 
When financial disaster began to weigh him down, and 
Lady Scott's health began to fail, it was Anne who 
tenderly supported her beloved father. In the sad days 
following the death of Lady Scott, she accompanied him 
to London and Paris and was by his side when he 
received his first paralytic stroke. Her health was 
shattered by the long strain of her mother's illness and 
death, followed by that of her father, and she survived 
her distinguished parent less than a year. 

Regarding the historical characters in the novel, the 
critics seem to agree that the portraits of Cromwell and 
Charles II are far from accurate and of course their part 
in the story is imaginary. When Scott's enthusiasm for 
the Stuart family is considered, and his sympathy for 

376 



WOODSTOCK 

royalty in general, as well as the habit among Scotchmen 
of his time of regarding the great Protector as a hypo- 
crite, it must be admitted that his picture of Cromwell, 
while far from flattering, is on the whole remarkably 
fair to that stern and powerful leader. 

Although 'Woodstock' is not ranked among Scott's 
greatest novels, it is noteworthy that many critics, 
including Lockhart and Andrew Lang, both of whom 
usually preferred the Scottish romances, saw in it 
great merit. In one respect it is the most wonderful 
of all novels — in the self-control which enabled its 
author calmly to compose a well-constructed story, full 
of incident and dramatic power, in the face of afflictions 
which would have borne down a common mind to those 
depths of despair in which the ordinary duties of life 
are forgotten. Scott here proved to be not only a master 
of the art of story-telling, but the master of himself. 



CHAPTER XXIX 

THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH 

Twoscore years elapsed between the day when Walter 
Scott, a lad of fifteen, felt a thrill of rapture as he 
viewed the valley of the Tay from the Wicks of Baiglie 
and the time when the same Walter, a worn-out man, 
first used the beautiful scene as the setting of a novel. 
The 'inimitable landscape,' as he called it, took posses- 
sion of his mind and retained its influence during the 
greater part of his life. During the sad years of dis- 
couragement, when the 'Canongate Chronicles' had 
met with a cold reception, and his critical publishers 
were expressing their views somewhat too sharply, Scott 
turned once more to his well-loved Highlands for the 
theme of a story, and the picture which had so aroused 
his 'childish wonder' came back again after more than 
forty years. 

Naturally our first thought upon arriving, at Perth 
was to find the Wicks of Baiglie and enjoy the same 
sensation of wonder which Sir Walter had so graph- 
ically described. We accordingly drove out over the hills 
south of the town, on the Edinburgh road, till we came 
to the Inn of Baiglie, but all to no purpose. A burly 
blacksmith, who looked as if he might have been a 
descendant of Henry Gow himself, told us that many 
people sought the view which Scott had described, but 
'it did not exist.' Changes in the road and the growth of 
foliage had completely destroyed the prospect from the 

378 



THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH 

Wicks of Baiglie. We were compensated for our disap- 
pointment, however, by several glimpses of the valley 
from Moncreiff Hill and by a 'superb view, which we 
enjoyed the following day, from the summit of Kinnoull 
Hill, east of the city. At the foot of this hill is the 
modern Castle of Kinfauns, replacing the seat of Sir 
Patrick Charteris, to which the burghers of Perth made 
their memorable journey. 

Perthshire is one of the largest counties in Scotland 
and excels all the others in the beauty and variety of its 
scenery. Along its southern border lies a region of 
moorlands, set with sparkling lochs and rippling 
streams, in the midst of which are the famous Trossachs. 
On the north are the rugged summits of the Grampian 
Mountains. In the centre is Loch Tay, one of the love- 
liest of Highland lakes, fed by the pure mountain 
streams that come down through the wild passes of 
Glen Lochay and Glen Dochart. Its outlet is the 
pleasant river Tay, passing down the eastern border 
through a valley of green meadows, waving groves, 
fertile fields, and princely palaces. In a drive of one 
hundred miles from Perth to Taymouth and back again 
by another route, we saw not so much as half a mile of 
scenery that might be called commonplace or uninter- 
esting. 

North of the city is the Palace of Scone, which became 
the seat of government in the eighth century, at which 
time the famous Stone of Scone was brought from 
Dunstaffnage. Most of the Scottish kings were crowned 
here, until Edward I, in the fourteenth century, carried 
the stone to Westminster Abbey. Farther north, in the 
same valley, is a bit of Shakespeare's scenery. We 

379 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

passed through the Birnam Wood of 'Macbeth,' though 
we saw no trees. Perhaps this was natural, for accord- 
ing to Shakespeare they all went to Dunsinane Hill 
many years ago and the bard does n't say that they 
ever came back. 

Perth is an ancient city, having received a charter 
from David I in the early part of the twelfth century. 
For nearly three hundred years it was the residence of 
the Scottish kings, who occupied during the greater part 
of that time the monastery of the Dominicans or 
Black Friars, formerly situated near the west end of the 
present bridge. This is the church to which Simon 
Glover and his daughter were walking when they were 
accosted by the frivolous young Duke of Rothsay, heir 
to the throne of Scotland. It was founded in 123 1. The 
city was well provided with other religious houses, not- 
ably the Carthusian Monastery founded in 1429, the 
Grey Friars in 1460, and the Carmelites or White 
Friars, west of the town, dating from 1260. All of these 
have disappeared, the result of a famous sermon 
preached by John Knox, in 1559, in the old Church of 
St. John, which aroused the populace to a frenzy of 
excitement against the Church of Rome. St. John's 
Church was itself despoiled of everything which the 
mob thought savoured of popery, its altars, its images, 
and even its organ being destroyed. The building itself 
remained unhurt. Old St. John's was established as 
early as the fifth century. The transept and nave of 
the present building were erected in the thirteenth 
century and the choir in the fifteenth. At present the 
structure is divided into three churches, the East, the 
Middle, and the West. The appeal to the direct judg- 

380 



THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH 

ment of Heaven, to determine the identity of the 
murderer of Oliver Proudfute, which is described as 
taking place within this building, was based upon a 
widespread belief that the corpse of a murdered person 
would bleed upon the approach of the guilty person, — 
the same superstition which Hawthorne used in 'The 
Marble Faun.' 

Scott gives the Black Friars' Monastery a conspicuous 
place in his story, as the residence of King Robert III. 
That well-meaning but weak monarch had three sons: 
the eldest, David, Duke of Rothsay, died at Falkland 
Palace, under suspicious circumstances; the second, 
John, died in infancy; while the third, known in history 
as James I, nominally succeeded to the throne on the 
death of his father in 1406, but was held a prisoner by 
the English and did not actually come into his inherit- 
ance until 1424. One of his first acts was to throw Mur- 
doch, the son and successor of the Duke of Albany, into 
prison, and a little later he punished the treachery of that 
nobleman by execution at Stirling Castle. James I was 
a great contrast to his weak-minded father and by the 
decisiveness of his character, the sagacity of his states- 
manship, and the brilliancy of his literary attainments 
gave Scotland a memorable reign. It was due to his 
untimely death that Perth lost her prestige as the seat 
of the Scottish kings. He was suddenly surrounded by 
a band of three hundred Highlanders, who entered his 
apartment at the Dominican Priory and stabbed him to 
death with their daggers. The horror inspired by this 
assassination caused the abrupt transfer of the Court to 
Edinburgh and the King's successor, James II, was 
crowned at Holyrood Abbey instead of at Scone. 

381 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

The house of the Fair Maid of Perth may still be seen 
in Curfew Street, near the site of the old monastery. A 
comparison of its neat, well-kept appearance with the 
pictures of the same house as it was before the 'restora- 
tion' shows that it has improved with age as wonder- 
fully as Shakespeare's birthplace at Stratford-on-Avon. 
Not far away, in a very narrow and squalid close, is 
another house celebrated in the story — the veritable 
residence of Hal o' the Wynd. The rapid multiplication 
of the Smith family may cause the sceptical to doubt 
the authenticity of this landmark, but to the citizens of 
Perth it is the original dwelling of the famous Henry 
Smith, or Henry Gow. 

The great public park and playground, north of the 
bridge, known as the North Inch, was the scene of the 
famous Battle of the Clans which took place in 1396. 
Thirty sturdy representatives of the Clan Chattan 
fought to the death with an equal number of the Clan 
Kay, or as Scott calls them, the Clan Quhele. When the 
conflict was about to commence, it was discovered that 
the Clan Chattan numbered only twenty-nine, where- 
upon a citizen of Perth, having no interest in the strug- 
gle, volunteered, for the paltry sum of half a mark, to 
risk his life in the frightful battle, and thus made up the 
required number. An ancient chronicler sums up the 
result in these quaint words: — 

At last, the Clankayis war al slane except ane, that swam 
throw the watter of Tay. Of Glenquhattannis, was left xi 
personis on live; bot thay war sa hurt, that thay micht 
nocht hold thair swerdis in thair handis. 

There is a touch of contrition in Scott's portrayal of 
the cowardice of Conachar. The novelist's brother, 

382 



THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH 

Daniel, a man of dissipated habits, had been employed 
in the island of Jamaica in some service against a body 
of insurgent Negroes, and had shown a deficiency in 
courage. He returned to Scotland a dishonoured man 
and Scott refused to see him. A stern sense of duty 
impelled him to refuse even to attend the funeral of the 
man who had disgraced his family. In later years he 
bitterly repented this austerity and atoned for it by 
tenderly caring for the unfortunate brother's child. 

Something of these feelings may have been in his 
mind when he wrote in his Diary on December 5, 1827 : 
'The fellow that swam the Tay would be a good ludi- 
crous character. But I have a mind to try him in the 
serious line of tragedy. . . . Suppose a man's nerves, 
supported by feelings of honour, or say by the spur of 
jealousy, sustaining him against constitutional timidity 
to a certain point, then suddenly giving way, I think 
something tragic might be produced. . . . Well, I '11 try 
my brave coward or cowardly brave man.' 

Campsie Linn, where Conachar made his final appear- 
ance, and with a last despairing shriek 'plunged down 
the precipice into the raging cataract beneath,' is a 
pleasant little waterfall in the Tay, seen through a small 
clearing in the woods. It is scarcely a cataract nor are 
the precipices formidable. The religious house where 
Catharine took refuge has completely disappeared. 

Falkland Castle, to which the Duke of Rothsay was 
carried, a prisoner, is in Fifeshire, about fifteen miles 
southeast of Perth. The rooms in which the Prince was 
quartered were probably in the old tower, which has 
completely disappeared. Excavations made by the 
Marquis of Bute in 1892 show it to have been an exten- 

383 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

sive building fifty feet in diameter. The present castle, 
or the greater part of it, was built at a period somewhat 
later than that of the story. As early as 1160, Falkland 
was known as part of the property of the Earls of Fife, 
who were descendants of Macduff, the famous Thane of 
Fife, who put an end to the reign of Macbeth in 1057. 
On the death of Isabel, Countess of Fife, the last of her 
race, Falkland came into the hands of the Duke of 
Albany, the brother of King Robert III. Albany was 
intensely jealous of his nephew, the Duke of Rothsay, 
who, after attaining his majority, began to display traits 
of character more worthy than those ascribed to him in 
the novel. He was entrusted by the King with affairs of 
some importance and gave promise of developing into 
an active and vigorous successor to his father. This was, 
of course, a menace to the plans of Albany, who sought 
the crown for himself, and he therefore managed to 
exaggerate the young man's faults to the King and to 
stir up suspicions against him, until the feeble monarch 
consented to allow his son to be imprisoned for a time 
as a cure for his profligacy. The Queen, who might have 
interceded for the Prince, was dead, as was also the 
Bishop of St. Andrew, who had often been a mediator 
in the royal quarrels. Sir John de Ramorny, the 
young man's tutor, who had suggested to him the assas- 
sination of Albany and had been indignantly repulsed, 
revenged himself by false reports to his pupil's uncle, 
and was commissioned by the latter to arrest his former 
charge. The Duke of Rothsay was thereupon waylaid 
and carried to the Castle of Falkland. The common 
report was that he was placed in a dungeon and starved 
to death. It was said that a poor woman, who heard 

384 




HOUSE OF THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH 



THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH 

his groans while she was passing through the garden, 
kept him alive for a time by passing small pieces of 
barley cake through the bars. Another woman fed him 
with her own milk, which she conveyed through a small 
reed to the famished prisoner. Another story is that the 
daughter of the governor of the castle was the one who 
took compassion on the Prince, and that her wicked 
father put her to death as a punishment for showing 
mercy. The Duke of Albany and the Earl of Douglas 
were charged with the murder, but maintained that the 
Prince had died from natural causes and the Parliament 
unanimously acquitted them. Lord Bute, who gave 
much study to the records of the case, was inclined to 
doubt the commission of an actual murder, but admitted 
that the cause of the young Duke's death must always 
remain uncertain. 

James I and James II made important additions to 
Falkland, and James V, who found it in a ruinous condi- 
tion, made many extensive repairs and additions. It 
was here that the latter king died of a broken heart, 
at the early age of thirty-two. A few moments before 
his death, when informed of the birth of his daughter, 
Mary, who became the Queen of Scots, he exclaimed 
prophetically, referring to the crown, ' It cam' wi' a lass 
and it'll gang wi' a lass.' Mary herself visited the castle 
annually for five or six years, before her marriage with 
Darnley and spent many happy days there. Her son, 
James VI, also made it his residence and was living there 
at the time he was enticed away in the 'Gowrie Con- 
spiracy.' The last king to visit the palace was Charles 
II, who came for a stay of several days, after his coro- 
nation at Scone in 1651. Later the troops of Cromwell 

385 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

occupied the place, and its historical interest ceased soon 
afterward. 

'The Fair Maid of Perth' was finished in the spring 
of 1828. When the author laid down his pen, it was to 
mark the real close of the Waverley Novels. True, 
others were yet to be written, but they were the work of 
a broken man, and failed to come up to Scott's high 
standard. It is one of the marvels of literature that a 
novel so attractive and interesting as ' The Fair Maid ' 
could be produced under circumstances so distracting 
and painful. No one places it in the same rank as ' Guy 
Mannering' and 'Ivanhoe,' yet it was popular at the 
time of publication and has always been regarded as 
entirely worthy of the reputation of the ' Great Wizard.' 
The indomitable will of the master was still able to hold 
his matchless imagination to its task, though the days 
of its power were now numbered. 



CHAPTER XXX 

THE CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE AND OTHER TALES 

The remaining tales of the Waverley Novels require 
only brief mention. There is but little in them of the 
'Country of Sir Walter Scott/ and scarcely more of the 
author himself. They are the final efforts of a man 
whose extraordinary buoyancy of youthful spirit is at 
last beginning to sink beneath a burden too great for 
human endurance. To begin at fifty-five the uninspiring 
task of 'paying for dead horses' the vast sum of £117,- 
000, an amount which few men are able to earn by 
honest labour in all the days of their lives, required a 
superb courage which only Scott's high sense of honour 
could have sustained. Scarcely had the resolve been 
made when a second crushing blow fell with a force 
more stunning than the first. His beloved wife, the 
companion of thirty years, was taken away at the hour 
of his greatest need. She who could relieve the tedium 
of his toil by slipping quietly into the room to see if the 
fire burned, or to ask some kind question, was no longer 
present to comfort him. He felt a paralyzing sense of 
loneliness and old age, which even the devotion of his 
daughter Anne could not relieve. To continue the awful 
grind of writing for money — for something which he 
could not enjoy nor save for any cherished purpose, but 
must surrender at once to others — required an almost 
superhuman exertion of will power. His health began to 
fail. Headaches and insomnia, added to rheumatism, 

387 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

caused him great distress. His early lameness became 
intensified and made walking so painful that he had to 
abandon what had been his favourite form of exercise. 
The once vigorous frame had prematurely worn out 
under the strain imposed upon it. Scott had become an 
aged man at less than threescore years. Yet in these 
years of disappointment, grief, and physical pain he 
produced an amount of work of which an ordinary man 
might well be proud had it represented a lifetime of toil. 
From 1826, the year of Constable's failure, to 1831, this 
man of iron will produced no less than forty 1 volumes, 
besides fifteen important reviews, essays, etc., and in 
addition supervised the publication of his complete 
prose writings and the Waverley Novels, preparing for 
the latter a series of exhaustive introductions and notes. 
I have anticipated a little by devoting a separate 
chapter to 'The Fair Maid of Perth' which appeared as 

1 The volumes were: — 

Woodstock 3 volumes 

Life of Napoleon Buonaparte 9 

Chronicles of the Canongate, First Series, — comprising 
The Two Drovers, The Highland Widow, and The Sur- 
geon's Daughter 2 

Tales of a Grandfather 12 

Chronicles of the Canongate, Second Series — The Fair 

Maid of Perth 3 

Anne of Geierstein 3 

A History of Scotland 2 

The Doom of Devorgoil and Auchindrane 1 

Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft 1 

Tales of My Landlord, Fourth Series, — Count Robert of 

Paris, and Castle Dangerous -_4 

40 

Three short stories, which Ballantyne objected to including in the 
Canongate Chronicles, were printed in The Keepsake. These were 
'My Aunt Margaret's Mirror,' 'The Tapestried Chamber,' and the 
' Death of the Laird's Jock.' 

388 



THE CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE 

the Second Series of the ' Chronicles of the Canongate ' 
in 1828. The 'First Series' was published in 1827 and 
comprised 'The Two Drovers,' 'The Highland Widow,' 
and 'The Surgeon's Daughter.' To many the chief 
interest lies in the Introduction. When the work was 
first projected, Scott thought of preserving his incognito 
by conceiving the tales to be the work of one Chrystal 
Croftangry, an elderly gentleman who had taken 
quarters for a time within the Sanctuary, as the imme- 
diate vicinity of Holyrood was called. Here, as in the 
famous Alsatia of London, debtors were safe from 
arrest. Scott at one time feared that the importunities 
of a certain relentless creditor might force him to take 
refuge in the Sanctuary. On November 1, 1827, he made 
this entry in his Journal: 'I waked in the night and lay 
two hours in feverish meditation ... I suppose that I, 
the Chronicler of the Canongate, will have to take up 
my residence in the Sanctuary, unless I prefer the more 
airy residence of the Colton Jail, or a trip to the Isle of 
Man.' Fortunately this creditor was silenced by Scott's 
generous friend, Sir William Forbes, who privately paid 
the claim out of his own pocket. 1 

There is much in Mr. Croftangry's lengthy biography 
to remind one of Sir Walter himself. He finds pleasure 
in visiting the Portobello sands to see the cavalry drill, 
suggesting at once the young quartermaster of the 
Edinburgh Volunteers, who rode a black charger up 
and down the sands while he composed some of the most 
spirited stanzas of 'Marmion.' He delights to spend the 
wet mornings with his book and the pleasant ones in 
strolling upon the Salisbury Crags — just as Walter, 

1 See Chapter V, Rokeby, page 95. 
389 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

the high-school boy and college student loved to do. In 
Mrs. Bethune Baliol, the genial old lady who assists 
Mr. Croftangry in his literary speculations, we have a 
kindly reference to a dear friend of the author — Mrs. 
Murray Keith, who died at eighty-two years of age, 
'one of the few persons whose spirits and cleanliness, 
and freshness of mind and body made old age lovely 
and desirable.' 

The volume is still more interesting because it con- 
tains Scott's first printed acknowledgment of the 
authorship of the Waverley Novels and gives an insight 
into some of the original suggestions of both characters 
and scenery. It also contains an account of the Theatri- 
cal Fund Dinner held in Edinburgh in February, 1827, 
in which Scott was publicly referred to as the author of 
the Waverley Novels and acknowledged in the presence 
of three hundred gentlemen the secret which he had 
hitherto confided to only twenty. 

'The Highland Widow' is a story of that wild but 
beautiful portion of Argyllshire of which Loch Awe is 
the chief attraction. Dumbarton Castle, where the 
widow's unfortunate son bravely paid with his life for 
the mistaken teachings and indiscretions of his mother, 
is a conspicuous object on the right bank of the Clyde, a 
few miles below Glasgow. It stands on a high rock, the 
circumference of which at the base is fully a mile. It is 
still maintained as one of the defences of Scotland, in 
accordance with the Treaty of Union. 

'The Two Drovers' is an excellent short story pictur- 
ing the life of those men who drove their cattle from the 

39o 



THE CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE 

Highlands about Doune, to the markets of Lincolnshire 
or elsewhere in England, making the entire journey on 
foot, sleeping with their droves at night in all kinds of 
weather and enduring many hardships. 

'The Surgeon's Daughter,' though it opens in one of 
the midland counties of Scotland, is chiefly a story of 
India, and the scenery is therefore not a part of Scott's 
Country, for he never saw it. The good old doctor, 
Gideon Grey, was, however, an old friend who lived in 
Selkirk, Dr. Ebenezer Clarkson, one of those hard- 
working country doctors who often combine, 'under a 
blunt exterior, professional skill and enthusiasm, intel- 
ligence, humanity, courage, and science.' 

'Anne of Geierstein,' though sharply criticized by 
James Ballantyne and regarded by the author himself 
as a task which he hated, is nevertheless a wonderful 
work of imagination, in which the old-time genius is 
clearly manifest. Lockhart points out the power, which 
Scott retained in advanced years, of depicting 'the 
feelings of youth with all their original glow and purity,' 
and says that nowhere has the author 'painted such 
feelings more deliciously' than in certain passages of 
'Anne of Geierstein.' He assigns as a reason the fact 
that Scott always retained in memory the events of his 
own happy life, and besides 'he was always living over 
again in his children, young at heart whenever he looked 
on them.' 

Though admittedly erroneous in certain historical 
details, the volume contains some wonderful descrip- 
tions of scenery. Scott never visited Switzerland, where 

39i 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

the chief interest of the story lies, but seemed to have 
an instinctive grasp of its charm, which he accounted 
for by saying, 'Had I not the honour of an intimate 
personal acquaintance with every pass in the Highlands; 
and if that were not enough, had I not seen pictures and 
prints galore ? ' The story opens at the village of Lucerne, 
and the Lake of the Four Cantons, beneath the shadow 
of the awe-inspiring Mount Pilatus. Those who have 
travelled from this point to Bale, and thence down the 
Rhine to Strasburg, should have a fairly good idea of the 
scenery of the novel — better, perhaps, than the author 
himself. Charles of Burgundy, whose character and 
career had made a strong impression upon Scott through 
the pages of Philippe de Comines, appears once more, 
and the novel closes with his defeat at Nancy and tragic 
death in a half -frozen swamp, the victim of the traitor- 
ous Campo-basso. The story of King Rene and the 
events at Aix in Provence was an afterthought, woven 
into the tale at the suggestion of James Skene, who 
supplied the necessary details. 

' Count Robert of Paris' is a tale of Constantinople, a 
city which Scott had not visited. The difficulties under 
which it was written may be judged from such expres- 
sions in the Journal as these: 'My pen stammers egregi- 
ously and I write horridly incorrect'; 'The task of 
pumping my brain becomes inevitably harder'; 'My 
bodily strength is terribly gone; perhaps my mental 
also.' The spirit which enabled him to persevere in spite 
of Cadell and Ballantyne, who were again criticizing 
severely, may be seen from these lines: 'But I will fight 
it out if I can. It would argue too great an attachment 

392' 



THE CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE 

of consequence to my literary labours to sink under 
critical clamour. Did I know how to begin, / would 
begin again this very day, although I knew I should sink 
at the end.' 

In spite of the doctor's advice, he kept on with his 
dictation — for he could no longer use the pen — and 
finished 'Count Robert' amidst a frightful sea of 
troubles. He had suffered three or four strokes of 
apoplexy or palsy, and had experienced daily tortures 
from cramp, rheumatism, and increasing lameness. Yet 
in the midst of all this affliction he thought of his credi- 
tors and said repeatedly to Lockhart, 'I am very 
anxious to be done, one way or another, with this 
"Count Robert," and a little story about the " Castle 
Dangerous"' — thus to the last continuing the old 
trick of starting a new story before its predecessor was 
finished. He even resumed his youthful practice of 
going in search of material, and actually undertook an 
excursion to Douglas in Lanarkshire, where he examined 
attentively the old ivy-covered fragment of the original 
castle, the ruins of the old church, and the crypt of the 
Douglases, filled with leaden coffins. He even talked 
with the people of the village, after his old-time fashion, 
and gathered such legends as they could remember. 
He was now on familiar ground and speedily finished the 
latest story, bringing 'Count Robert' to a close about 
the same time. The two were published in November, 
1831, as the Fourth Series of 'Tales of My Landlord.' 
These volumes completed the literary labours of Sir 
Walter, except that he continued to work a little at his 
notes and introductions, but at last he took the advice of 
his friends and agreed to do no more work of an exacting 

393 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

nature. A journey to the Continent followed, including 
a visit to Malta, but in the following year he was glad 
to return to his beloved Abbotsford. On the 21st of 
September, 1832, lying in the dining-room of the man- 
sion which his industry and courage had saved to his 
family, and listening to the rippling of his beloved river 
Tweed, the brave and honourable as well as honoured 
writer, breathed his last. He had fought a good fight 
and died in the belief that he had won. And so he had. 
For although the debt was not entirely paid, the subse- 
quent sale of copyrights realized enough to satisfy all 
claims. Scott's sense of honour and superb courage 
had won a glorious victory. 



CHAPTER XXXI 

A SUCCESSFUL LIFE 

In travelling so many miles to view the scenery of 
Scott's work, I think the strongest impression I have 
received is that of the all-pervading personality of Scott 
himself. It was one of the joys of the experience that 
so many places, not particularly attractive in them- 
selves, should suddenly become interesting when found 
to be connected in some way with Scott's life or with 
something he had written; and that scenes of great 
natural beauty should become invested with a new 
fascination whenever they were found to suggest some 
line of poetry or to recall some well-remembered inci- 
dent. I am sure I should never have given a second 
thought to the bit of an old wall which is now the scant 
remnant of Triermain Castle, had I passed it without 
knowledge of its identity; but it was worth going far 
out of the way to see, if only for the sake of realizing 
how the merest fragment of an old ruin could suggest a 
poem to Scott and how he could rebuild a castle in all 
its early magnificence and people it with the children of 
his fancy. 

I know of no more romantic place in all of beautiful 
Scotland than the vale of the Esk, where the river flows 
between high cliffs, clothed with thick shrubbery and 
overhanging vines; and one can stand by the side of the 
stream, looking over the lacelike foliage of the tree-tops, 
and catch glimpses now and then of some fascinating old 
ruin, peeping down like a fairy castle, lodged in the 

395 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

topmost branches. Yet when I recall its charm, I cannot 
help remembering how it transformed an Edinburgh law- 
yer of small reputation into a poet of world-wide fame. 

Wherever we went, whether driving through the 
Canongate of Edinburgh, or looking across the Tweed 
toward the Eildon Hills, or listening to the shrill screams 
of the sea-fowl as they dashed about the dizzy heights 
of St. Abb's Head, or wandering quietly through the 
woods that lend a wild and fairy-like enchantment to 
the Trossachs, there was always the feeling that Scott 
had been there before and had so left the impress of his 
personality that his spirit seemed to remain. 

It was a pleasant sensation, for there seemed to be in 
it an indefinable consciousness of the presence of Scott's 
own genial nature, that spirit of good-fellowship which 
so delighted Washington Irving when he enjoyed the rare 
privilege of wandering over the hills and valleys with 
Sir Walter, listening to countless anecdotes and ballads, 
and sharing his boundless hospitality for several days. 

This feeling became more and more intense as we 
went about in the Border Country, which must be 
regarded as Scott's real home, and it reached its cul- 
mination when we came to Abbotsford. Here, thanks 
to the courtesy of Mr. James Curie, the representative 
in Melrose of the Honourable Mrs. Maxwell-Scott, a 
great-granddaughter of the poet and the present owner 
of the estate, we were greeted with a kindness worthy 
of Sir Walter's own ideas of hospitality. We seemed to 
meet the original owner face to face — not the poet — 
not the novelist — but Walter Scott, the man. 

The great mansion and the spacious, well-wooded 
estate which he took so much joy in creating and 

396 



A SUCCESSFUL LIFE 

struggled so desperately to save, seemed to typify all 
the success and all the failure of his career. The garden 
with the arched screen, copied by his own desire from 
the cloisters of Melrose Abbey; the pile of stones in the 
centre, that once formed the base of the ancient Mercat 
Cross of his native city; the stone image of the favourite 
old stag-hound Maida, placed just outside the door, as 
a constant reminder of the faithful friend of many 
years; the entrance itself, copied from the Palace of 
Linlithgow; the hall, with its fine carved woodwork 
from the old Kirk of Dunfermline; the museum with 
its collection of guns, swords, armour, and curious 
articles of every description, suggesting the author's 
antiquarian tastes and the loving interest which scores 
of friends took in presenting him with the things they 
knew he would appreciate; the library with its thousands 
of volumes representing the author's own literary tastes; 
the study with his own desk and chair; the dining-room 
with its highly prized ancestral portraits; and the bay- 
window through which Sir Walter looked for the last 
time upon the rippling waters of his beloved Tweed — all 
these seemed to bring his kindly personality nearer to us. 

I believe it was this all-pervading personality, the 
spirit of brotherly kindness, of generosity and of love, 
that made Scott's life a success. It is reflected through 
page after page in the novels and poems, and shines out 
brilliantly from the beginning to the end of Lockhart's 
great biography. It is the very essence of that whole- 
some quality which has been so often remarked as one 
of the most distinguishing characteristics of the Waver- 
ley Novels. 

There were no signs on Scott's property warning 

397 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

trespassers to 'keep out.' He felt that such things 
would be offensive to the feelings of the people and if 
any of his neighbours could shorten a journey by walk- 
ing through his grounds, he wanted them to have the 
advantage. There was one sign on his land, by a broad 
path through the woods, reading 'The Rod to Selkirk.' 
The spelling was Tom Purdie's, but the implied invi- 
tation to take a 'short cut' through the private estate 
was warmly endorsed by his master. It was a pleasure 
to him to see children come up with a pocketful of nuts 
gathered from his trees, rather than run away at sight 
of him, and he declared that no damage had ever been 
done in consequence of the free access which all the 
world had to his place. 

When he walked over his estate, talking familiarly 
with Maida, who almost invariably accompanied him, 
he would stop for a friendly word with every tenant. 
1 Sir Walter speaks to every man as if they were blood 
relations/ said one of them. Happy the companion 
who could take such a walk with him. 'Oh! Scott was 
a master spirit — as glorious in his conversation as in 
his writings,' wrote Irving. 'He spoke from the fulness 
of his mind, pouring out an incessant flow of anecdote 
and story, with dashes of humour, and then never 
monopolizing, but always ready to listen and appreciate 
what came from others. I never felt such a conscious- 
ness of happiness as when under his roof.' 

The same kindliness, experienced by tenants and 
visitors, was extended to the servants of the family, as 
Tom Purdie could heartily testify. Tom was brought 
before Scott, as sheriff, charged with poaching. He told 
his story with such pathos, — of a wife and many chil- 

398 



A SUCCESSFUL LIFE 

dren to feed, of scarcity of work and abundance of 
grouse, — mingling with it so much sly humour, that the 
'ShirraV kind heart was touched. He took Tom into 
his own employment as shepherd, and no master ever 
had a more faithful servant. When Purdie died, twenty- 
five years later, he was laid to rest in the churchyard 
of Melrose Abbey, where his grave is marked by a 
simple monument, inscribed by his master, 'in sorrow 
for a humble but sincere friend.' Peter Mathieson, a 
brother-in-law of Tom, who was employed as coachman 
about the same time, survived his master. The portraits 
of both these servants occupy an honoured place on the 
walls of the armoury at Abbotsford. 

No man was ever on more delightful terms with his 
family than Sir Walter. Captain Basil Hall, who spent 
a Christmas fortnight at Abbotsford, recorded that 
'even the youngest of his nephews and nieces can joke 
with him, and seem at all times perfectly at ease in his 
presence — his coming into the room only increases 
the laugh and never checks it — he either joins in what 
is going on, or passes.' When writing in his study, if 
Lady Scott or the children entered, his train of thought 
was not disturbed. He merely regarded the interruption 
as a welcome diversion by which he felt refreshed. 
Sometimes he would lay down his pen and, taking the 
children on his knee, tell them a story; then kissing 
them, and telling them to run away till supper-time, he 
would resume his work with a contented smile. He con- 
sidered it ' the highest duty and sweetest pleasure ' of a 
parent to be a companion to his children. They in turn 
reciprocated by sharing with 'papa' all their little joys 
and sorrows and taking him into their hearts as their 

399 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

very best playfellow. No man ever took more pleasure 
in the education of his children. On Sundays he would 
often go out with the whole family, dogs included, for 
a long walk, and when the entire party were grouped 
about him, by the side of some pleasant brook, he 
would tell stories from the Bible, weaving into them 
all that picturesque charm and richness which have 
made his written stories so delightful. He taught his 
children to love the out-of-door life, and especially in- 
sisted upon their attaining proficiency in horsemanship, 
that they might become as fearless as himself. ' With- 
out courage,' he said, 'there cannot be truth; and with- 
out truth, there can be no other virtue.' 

What Scott taught his children, he impressed upon 
all, by the force of example, throughout his life. Shortly 
before his death, in a few simple words, he epitomized 
his creed — without intending to do so — in a tender 
parting message to his son-in-law. 'Lockhart,' he said, 
'I may have but a minute to speak to you. My dear, 
be a good man — be virtuous — be religious — be a 
good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort 
when you come to lie here.' When Lockhart asked if he 
should send for Sophia and Anne, he said, 'No, don't 
disturb them. Poor souls! I know they were up all 
night — God bless you all.' 

This lifelong desire to 'be good' and to do good, with- 
out the slightest affectation, prudery, or sanctimonious- 
ness, was I believe the crowning glory of Scott's life 
and the secret of his success. 

Yet in many ways Scott was not successful. Judged 
by that test which is the only one allowed to many men, 
his life was distinctly a failure. In the ordinary usage of 

400 



A SUCCESSFUL LIFE 

the term, a man is accounted successful if he accom- 
plishes his chief aim in life. Wealth is the aim of so 
many that rich men are usually considered successful, 
and those who die poor are commonly supposed to be 
failures. 

Scott aimed to write a popular kind of poetry, and in 
this he succeeded. He then turned to fiction and here he 
was even more successful. But this kind of success did 
not represent his supreme desire. He sought to make it 
the means to an end, and the dream of his life was, after 
all, wealth. Not riches for himself. He was never mean 
enough for that, and selfishness did not enter into his 
nature. It was wealth for his family that he desired. 
He was a man of great pride and the old feudal system 
was full of attractiveness. He knew every detail of the 
history of the Scott family for centuries. He revered the 
Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch as the head of his clan. 
As his writings, year after year, brought him financial 
returns almost fabulous in size, he began to cherish the 
desire to found a new branch of the Scott Clan. The 
irresistible impulse to add new lands to Abbotsford, 
regardless of cost, and to erect a great mansion, fit for 
the residence of an earl, all sprang from this one motive. 
The readiness with which he purchased a captaincy in 
the army for his eldest son, at a cost of £3500, and the 
cheerfulness with which he settled nearly the whole of 
Abbotsford upon young Walter and his affianced bride, 
promising that if he should be spared ten years he would 
give them as much more, are striking indications of his 
intense longing to establish the Scotts of Abbotsford 
among the great families of Scotland. 

In this, the greatest ambition of his life, Scott was 

401 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

completely thwarted. Though Abbotsford was saved 
from the wreck of his fortunes by an almost superhuman 
effort, the estate which passed to his heirs was not so 
large as he had expected, nor did his sons live long to 
enjoy it. The eldest, Walter, died in 1847, and as he had 
no son, the baronetcy expired with him. The younger 
son, Charles, had died in 1841. 

The failure of Scott's hopes was the result of a long 
chain of circumstances. In early life he had undertaken 
the practice of law, and continued for ten years without 
rising above the level of mere drudgery, his earnings for 
the first five years averaging only eighty pounds annu- 
ally and probably not rising very much higher during 
the subsequent years. Finding it necessary, at length, 
to give up the law entirely, he arranged to secure an 
appointment as Clerk of the Court of Session, to suc- 
ceed an aged incumbent of that office. The agreement 
was that Scott should do the work while his predecessor 
drew the pay, in consideration of which he was to have 
the entire emolument after the old gentleman's death. 
The office was worth eight hundred pounds a year and 
offered a very fair substitute for the small earnings at 
the bar. Unfortunately the gentleman was so inconsid- 
erate as to prolong his existence for six years after the 
bargain was made. 

Scott was already in possession of a private income of 
one thousand pounds, to which the office of Sheriff of 
Selkirk added three hundred pounds, and was beginning 
to receive large rewards for his literary labour, ' The Lay 
of the Last Minstrel' bringing him £769 6s. for the 
first and second editions. It might be supposed that 
such an income would satisfy a young man not yet 

402 



A SUCCESSFUL LIFE 

thirty-four. Scott, however, was ambitious, and feeling 
the need of the additional income which did not at once 
materialize from the clerkship, sought to make up the 
deficiency by investing nearly all his capital in a com- 
mercial venture. He entered into a secret partnership 
with James Ballantyne in the printing business, which 
proved, with one exception, to be the greatest mistake 
of his life. The exception, which marked, in Lock- 
hart's phrase, 'the blackest day in his calendar,' was in 
connecting his fortunes with John Ballantyne in the 
publishing business. 

James Ballantyne's greatest fault was a tendency to 
rely too much upon Scott's judgment, and the latter 
was too much swayed by generous motives to be a 
prudent business manager. He would favour the publi- 
cation of an unmarketable book rather than disappoint 
a friend. Moreover, his own great interest in works of 
an historical or antiquarian nature often led him astray. 
His judgment of good literature was better than his 
knowledge of what the public was likely to buy. . The 
firm became loaded with unprofitable enterprises, which 
they, in turn, unloaded, in part, upon Constable, thus 
contributing one of the causes of the latter's downfall. 
Another weakness of James Ballantyne, who was an 
excellent printer and in many ways an exemplary man, 
was his distaste for figures and utter indifference to his 
balance-sheets — a fatal error for a business man. 

John Ballantyne, a younger brother of James, was 
a light-headed, happy-go-lucky, careless little fellow, 
who could amuse a company of friends with comic 
songs and droll mimicry, who loved all kinds of sports, 
drove a tandem down the Canongate, was fond of dissi- 

403 



THE COUNTRY OF SCOTT 

pation and gay company, and without the slightest 
capacity for business or interest in it. Like his brother 
he was intensely fond of Scott and loyal to him, but a 
reckless adventurer and spendthrift. Scott nicknamed 
him 'Rigdumfunnidos' and was always amused by him, 
but could scarcely have had respect for his business 
qualities. It must always remain a mystery why he 
entrusted so large an interest in his own fortunes to 
such a weakling. 

An alliance, and, what is worse, a secret one, with two 
such men, who could not in any sense act as a brake 
upon Scott's own impulses nor steady him with the 
business experience which he sadly lacked, was mistake 
enough; but Scott himself committed a serious error in 
his own affairs. He fell into the habit of selling his lit- 
erary productions before they were written, and carried 
this folly to such an extreme that about the time of the 
issue of 'The Fortunes of Nigel,' he had received pay- 
ment, by notes, from the bookseller, for no less than 
four works of fiction, which at that time had not even 
been planned. They subsequently appeared as ' Peveril 
of the Peak,' 'Quentin Durward,' 'St. Ronan's Well,' 
and 'Redgauntlet.' The proceeds were spent upon the 
castle at Abbotsford before the books were even named. 
John Ballantyne was rapidly spending money which his 
firm had not earned, and Scott, who ought to have 
remonstrated against such rashness, was committing the 
same fault on a larger scale. Under the circumstances 
the only wonder is that the disaster was so long averted. 
When it came, Scott found himself involved in the debts 
of the Ballantynes to the extent of £117,000. 

With superb courage he rose to the emergency. 

404 




SCOTT MONUMENT, EDINBURGH 



A SUCCESSFUL LIFE 

Assuming the entire burden, and struggling against 
almost insuperable difficulties, he succeeded in paying 
£63,000, or considerably more than half of the indebted- 
ness. Life insurance of £22,000 and £2000 in the hands 
of his trustees reduced the debt to about £30,000, which 
sum was advanced by Cadell, the publisher. All the 
creditors, except the latter, were then paid in full, and 
in 1847, fifteen years after Scott's death, Cadell was 
paid by a transfer of copyrights and the entire obligation 
was thus finally extinguished. 

Had Scott died at the time of the Constable failure, 
leaving his affairs to be settled by the ordinary process 
of the law, and the Ballantyne creditors unpaid, the 
world would never have known whether the unprece- 
dented success of his literary labours was after all quite 
sufficient to counterbalance the disastrous failure of his 
business affairs. 

The catastrophe, however, brought out all the sterling 
qualities of his character. How much courage he pos- 
sessed, what a high sense of honour, what patience, 
what endurance, even his closest friends had never 
realized. Just as those kindly personal qualities had 
woven an indescribable charm into the products of his 
fancy, such as no other series of writings had ever before 
possessed, so the highest and noblest traits of his char- 
acter responded to the call of a great emergency, and 
converted the failures of a lifetime into a final triumph. 



THE END 



INDEX 



Abbot, The, 4, 10, 265-271; 348. 
Abbotsford, 39, 46, 89, 90, 133, 146, 220, 

233, 346, 352. 360, 376, 394, 396, 397, 

398, 399, 401, 402. 
Abercorn, Lady, letter to, 22. 
Abercrombie, George, 119. 
Aberfoyle, 74; clachan of, 192, 193; 194; 

old bridge, 193. 
Adam, Rt. Hon. William, 267, 268. 
Albany, Duke of, 381, 384, 383. 
Allan-Fraser, Patrick, 154. 
Allan, the river, 259. 
Alsatia (Whitefriars), 323, 324. 
Amboglanna, 136. 
Annan, 357. 
Annan, the river, 359. 
Anne of Geierstein, 391, 392. 
Anne, Queen, 374. 
Antiquary, The, 145-159. 
Arbroath, 151-155; 158. 
Argyle, John, Duke of, 202, 207. 
Argyle, Marquis of, 225, 226, 227, 228, 231. 
Arthur's Seat, 8, 60. 
Ashby de la Zouch, 234, 235, 236. 
Ashestiel, 48, 62, 106, 346, 352. 
Auchmithie, 155, 158. 
Avon, the river, 283. 

Baiglie, the Wicks of, 10, 378. 

Bailie, Joanna, letter to, 366. 

Balfour, John, of Burley,i69, 177, 178, 179. 

Baliol, Barnard, founder of Barnard Castle, 

88. 
Ballantyne, James, 5, 106, 365, 372, 391, 

392, 403- 
Ballantyne, John, 5, 273, 372, 403, 4°4> 
Balmawhapple, 124. 
Balquhidder, Kirk of, 188, 189. 
Balue, Cardinal John de la, 234, 343. 
Bannockburn, 81, 104. 
Bard's Incantation, The, 159. 
Barnard Castle, 86-88, 92. 
Beaton, Cardinal, 155. 
Becket, Thomas a, 373. 
Bemerside Heights, 352. 
Ben An, 12, 76. 
Ben Ledi, 12, 73, 77. 
Ben Lomond, 12, 193. 
Ben Nevis, 232. 
Ben Venue, 12, 74, 76, 78. 
Betrothed, The, 365-369. 
Birnam Wood, 380. 



Bishop's Palace, the, Kirkwall, 307. 

Blackford Hill, 8, 57, 59- 

Black Ormiston, the Laird of, original of 

Julian Avenel, 261. 
Blackwood, William, criticism by, of The 

Black Dwarf, 165. 
Blair Adam Club, The, 267. 
Black Dwarf, The, 15, 160-165. 
Blenheim, battle of, 374. 
Blenheim Palace, 373-375. 
Bohun, Sir Henry de, 104. 
Border Minstrelsy, 52. 
Borthwick, the river, 35. 
Bothwell Bridge, 168, 170, 171. 
Bothwell Castle, 172. 
Bower, Johnny, guide at Melrose, 41. 
Bowhill, seat of the Duke of Buccleuch, 35. 
Bowness, 357. 

Bradwardine, Bears of, 107, 109. 
Bradwardine, Cosmo Comyne, 118, 123. 
Bradwardine, Rose, 113. 
Braes of Balquhidder, n, 66, 78, 186, 187, 

196. 
Branksome Hall, 37, 43. 
Branxton Hill, 7. 
Bridal of Triermain, The, 16, 20, 21, 91, 

96-99; 104. 
Bride oe Lammermoor, The, 215-223; 

190. 
Brignall Woods, 91, 92. 
Brig o' Turk, 71, 74, 77. 
Brogar, Bridge of, 310. 
Brown Square, 9. 
Bruce, John, discoveries of, in Kinrossness, 

Shetland, 298, 299. 
Bruce, Robert, 40, 80, 101, 102, 103, 124, 

129, 152, 191, 230, 262, 304, 332. 
Bryant, William Cullen, quoted, 164. 
Buccleuch, Duchess of (Countess of Dal- 
keith), 31, 32, 34, 46. 
Buccleuch, Duke of, 32; 35; 46; 49. 
Buchanan, Francis, 120. 
Buchanan, John, 72, 120. 
Burgh-upon-Sands, 358. 
Burns, Robert, 126, 142. 
Byron, Lord, 104. 

Cadell, Robert, 392, 405. 
Cadyow Castle, 30; quotation, 31. 
Caerlaverock Castle, 127-129, 135, 357. 
Caerlaverock Churchyard, grave of Old 
Mortality, 167. 



407 



INDEX 



Calton Hill, 60. 

Cambus Kenneth, 80. 

Cambusmore, 72, 120. 

Campbell, Robert MacGregor, original of 

Rob Roy, exploits of, 182-188; death of, 

189. 
Campsie Linn, no, 383. 
Canongate, The, Edinburgh, aog. 
Cargill, George, original of Saunders 

Mucklebackit, 156. 
Carlisle, 21, 121, 357, 338, 362. 
Caroline, Queen, 204. 
Carpenter, Miss Charlotte Margaret. See 

Lady Scott. 
Carrick, Margaret, original of Tib Mumps, 

137. 
Castell Coch, Wales, 368. 
Castell Dinas Bran, 367. 
Castle Dangerous, 190, 393. 
Castle Street, Edinburgh, Number 39, 

Scott's residence, 346. 
Castleton, 328. 
Cat Castle rocks, 94. 
Cathcart Castle, 271. 
Chambers, Robert, quoted, 202, 204. 
Chambers, William, quoted, 163. 
Charles I, 90, 225, 233, 319, 322, 326, 374. 
Charles II, 184, 242, 325. 326, 330, 332, 

334, 335. 376, 385. 
Charles of Burgundy, 338, 343, 344, 34s. 

392- 
Chaucer, 374. 

Chillingham Castle, 189-190, 191. 
Christian, William (William Dhone), 332. 
Chronicles of the Canongate, The, 

387-394. 
Churchill, John, Duke of Marlborough, 374. 
Clare, Lady, 61, 63. 
Claverhouse, John Grahame of, 170, 171, 

179. 
Cleikum Inn, 350. 
Clerk, William, original of Darsie Latimer, 

9, no, 267. 
Clickimin (Cleik-him-in) ,Pictish broch, 298. 
Clifford Tower, 250. 
Cluden, the river, 126, 205. 
Clyde, the river, 172. 
Coldingham Abbey, 56. 
Coldingham Priory, 222. 
Coldstream, 7, 61. 
Colmslie, 260. 

Comines, Philippe de, 341, 345, 392. 
Coningsburgh, Castle of, 246, 247, 248, 249, 

250. 
Constable, Archibald, 272, 372, 403, 404, 

40s. 
Constable, George, original of Monkbarns, 

4. 147. 
Constance de Beverly, 54-56, 64. 



Corehouse, Lord, 43. 

Corra Linn, 172. 

Count Robert of Paris, 392. 

Cragg Force, 94. 

Craighall, 12, no, m, 112. 

Craignethan Castle, original of Tillietud- 

lem, 172-175. 
Craigroyston, 185, 186. 
Cranstoun (Lord Corehouse), original of 

the Baron of Cranstoun, 42. 
Cranstoun, Miss (The Countess of Purg- 

stall), 190. 
Crichope Linn, 177. 
Crichton Castle, 56-58, 221. 
Cromwell, Oliver, 241, 374, 376, 377, 385. 
Crookston Castle, 270, 271. 
Crosbie, Andrew, original of Paulus Pley- 

dell, 141. 
Culloden, battle of, 116, 122, 123. 
Cumberland, 135, 136. 
Cumnor Church, 279. 
Cumnor Hall, 272, 273, 276, 277, 278. 
Cumnor, the village, 273, 281. 
Curie, James, 396. 

Dacre, Thomas, Lord, 20, 43. 

Daim, Oliver le, 342. 

Dalgetty, old soldier, 114. 

Dalrymple, James, Lord Stair, original of 

Sir William Ashton, 215, 216. 
Dalzell, General, 179. 
Darnley, Henry, Lord, husband of Mary 

Queen of Scots, 267, 271. 
David I, 380. 

David II, son of Robert Bruce, 183. 
David Deans, house of, 212. 
Davidson, James, original of Dandie 

Dinmont, 137. 
Dee, river in Wales, 367. 
Deepdale, 94. 
Derby, Countess of (Charlotte de la 

Tremouille), 332. 
Derby, Earls of, 332. 
Derbyshire, 328. 
Devil's Beef Tub, 361. 
Dirk Hatteraick's cave, 131, 132. 
Dods, Mrs. Margaret, 350. 
Don, the river, 247. 
Douglas, George, 269, 270. 
Douglas, Lady, 269. 
Douglas, 'The Little,' original of Roland 

Graeme, 270. 
Douglas, Sir William, 269. 
Douglas, village of, 393. 
Doune Castle, 12, 80, 120. 
Driver, Counsellor Pleydell's clerk, 14a. 
Drumclog, battle of, 170, 171. 
Dryburgh Abbey, 304, 352. 
Dryhope, 35. 



408 



INDEX 



Dudley, Edmund, 32s. 

Dudley, Guildford, 274, 325, 326. 

Dudley, John, Earl of Warwick and Duke 
of Northumberland, 274, 277, 281, 325. 

Dudley, Robert. See Leicester. 

Dugald Ciar Mohr, ancestor of Rob Roy, 
183. 

Dumbarton, 172, 270. 

Dumbiedykes, 212. 

Dumfries, 126, 127, 130, 131, 13s, 191. 
Maxwelltown observatory, 166; the 
Mid Steeple, 205; Church of Kirkpatrick 
Irongray, 207. 

Duncan, Rev. Dr., 353. 

Duncraggin, 77. 

Dundrennan Abbey, 270, 360. 

Dunfermline, the Abbey, 40, 304. 

Dunottar, Scott's meeting with Old Mor- 
tality, 167. 

Dunstaffnage, 230, 231, 232, 379. 

Dwarfie Stone, the, 312. 

Earl's Palace, the, Kirkwall, 307. 

Edinburgh, 7, 8. 

The Old Town, g, 10; Brown Square, 
9; High Street, 141; Parliament Square, 
190-202; St. Giles, 60, 199-203; Tolbooth, 
9, 200-205, 233; Advocates' Library, 200; 
Grassmarket, 203, 204; King's Park, 209, 
212; Canongate, 209, 266; Salisbury Crags, 
7, 8, 60, 210, 389; Queensbury House, 
266; the Castle, 346; Castle St., 346; St. 
Cuthbert's Church, 114; St. Leonard's 
Crags, 8,212; the Cowgate, 201 ; West Bow, 
201; St. Anthony's Chapel, 8, 210, 211. 

Edward I, 129, 191, 231, 324, 358, 379. 

Edward III, 374. 

Edward IV, 235, 240. 

Edward VI, 274. 

Egliston Abbey, 92, 93. 

Eildon Hills, the, 38, 347, 352, 396. 

Elibank, 36, 49, 106, 139, 352. 

Elizabeth, Queen, 272, 273, 274, 275, 286, 
287, 321, 326, 332. 

Ellen's Isle, 69, 76. 

Ellis, George, 32, 52, 96; quoted, 61, 64. 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, opinion of The 
Bride of Lammermoor, quoted, 215. 

English Lakes, the, 15, 16, 96. 

Engaddi, 369, 370. 

Erskine, Rev. John, 10. 

Erskine, William, 51, 96, 375. 

Esk, vale of the. See Roslin Glen. 

Etal Castle, 62. | 

Ethie Castle, 154, 155. 

Ettrick Forest, 47. 

Ettrick, the river, 175. 

Eve of St. John, The, 3, 30. 

Eyemouth, 222. 



Faa, Gabriel (Tod Gabbie), 138. 

Fair Maid of Perth, The, ii, 378-386; 
house of, 382. 

Fairy Dean, 259. 

Falkland Castle, 383, 384, 385. 

Fast Castle, 220. 

Feckless Fannie, original of Madge Wild- 
fire, 213. 

Ferguson, Dr. Adam, is, 160, 162. 

Ferguson, Sir Adam, 15, 16, 81, 267. 

Field of Waterloo, The, 104. 

Fitful Head, the, 300. 

Fitz James. See James V. 

Flodden Field, 7, 53, 58, 61, 62, 64, 257. ! 

'Flower of Yarrow,' the, 35. 

Forbes, Sir William, 18, 95, 389. 

Ford Castle, 62. 

Forth, the river, 188, 192. 

Fortunes of Nigel, The, 316-327, 404. 

Fort William, 231. 

Foster, Anthony, 274, 276, 279. 

Fountains Abbey, 243, 244. 

Friar Tuck, 237, 243, 252. 

Gardiner, Colonel, 4, 116. 

Gauger's Loup, the, 131. 

Gemmels, Andrew, original of Edie Ochil- 
tree, 6, 148. 

George II, 327. 

George V, 231, 320, 323. 

Gilmerton, 280. 

Gilsland, 16, 20, 97, 136, 159, 349- 

Glasgow — 

The Cathedral, 191, 192; the Tolbooth, 
192; the Salt Market, 192; theTrongate, 
195; Langside, 270. 

Glencaple, 127, 357. 

Glendearg, 259, 260. 

Glen Finglas, 74. 

Glenfinlas, 30. 

Glenfruin, battle of, 183. 

Glengarry. See MacDonnel. 

Gloucester, Cathedral of, 369. 

Goblin Cave, the, 78. 

Goldie, Mrs., 207. 

Gordon, Jean, original of Meg Merrilies, 
6, 7, 138. 

Gordon, Madge, Queen of the Gipsies, 6, 
138. 

Gow, John, original of Cleveland, 313. 

Gowrie Conspiracy, 221, 385. 

Grahame, John. See Claverhouse. 

Graham of Killearn, 186-187. 

Grassmarket, Edinburgh, 203, 204. 

Gratz, Rebecca, original of Rebecca, 252. 

Gray Brother, The, 30. 

Gray, Daft Jock, original of Davie Gellat- 
ley, 118. 

Grandtully Castle, 13, 109, nt, 112. 



409 



INDEX 



Greenwich Palace, called Placentia, 326. 

Greta, the river, 8g, 91, 94. 

Grey, Lady Jane, 274, 325, 326. 

Grey Mare's Tail, 176, 177. 

Grierson of Lag, 361. 

Guy Mannering, 126-144; scenes from, 
in Edinburgh, 10; Liddesdale, 15; Eng- 
land, 16. 

Guy's Cliffe, 281. 

Gwenwynwyn, Welsh hero, 368, 369. 

Haddon Hall, 329, 330, 331. 

Hall, Captain Basil, 399. 

Hallyards, residence of Dr. Adam Ferguson, 

160. 
Hal o' the Wynd, house of, 382. 
Harden, 35. 
Harden, Wat of, 106. 
Harold the Dauntless, 104. 
Harthill, site of Front-de-Bceuf's castle, 

239- 
Hastings, William, Lord, 235. 
Hawthornden, 24. 
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, his opinion of 

Scotland, 256. 
Heart of Midlothian, The, 8, 199-214, 

326. 
Heber, Richard, 52. 
Henry I, 373. 
Henry II, 329, 373. 
Henry III, 374. 
Henry VII, 240, 274, 335. 
Henry VIII, 244, 258, 321, 325, 326. 
Heriot, George, 318, 319. 
Heron, Lady, 60, 63. 
Heron, Sir Hugh, 7, S3- 
Herries family, the, 350-360. 
Highland Widow, The, 389, 390. 
High Street, Edinburgh, 9, 141. 
Hillslap, 260. 

Hoddam Castle, 359, 360, 361. 
Hogg, James, the Ettrick shepherd, 26, 

139, 144, 176. 
Holyrood Abbey, 304, 381. 
Holyrood Palace, 10, 60, 112, 113, 209, 266, 

267. 
Hospitalfield, Arbroath, 153. 
Howard, Lord William ('Belted Will'), 21, 

43i 231. 
Hoy, Island of, 312. 

Hughes, Mrs., of Uffington, quoted, 124. 
Hutton, Richard H., quoted, 64. 

Innerleithen, 349. 

Inverary Castle, 227, 231. 

Inverlochy, battle of, 226, 231-233; Castle, 

232. 
Inversnaid, 119; the fort, 196; the falls, 197. 
lona, 103, 231. 



Irthing River, the, 20, 97, 349. 

Irving, John, 7. 

Irving, Washington, visit of, to Abbots- 
ford, 252, 396; Scott's letter to, 253; 
quoted, 41, 47, 145, 146, 347, 398. 

Ivanhoe, 234-254, 345. 

James I of Scotland, 120, 129, 381, 385. 

James II of Scotland, 83, 120, 381, 385. 

James III, 58, 81, 120. 

James IV, S3, 58, 59, 60, 63, 81, 120. 

James V, 47, 58, 81; as Fitz James, 67, 75, 
79, 8o, 84; as ' Gudeman of Ballangeich,' 
82, 129, 342, 385. 

James VI of Scotland Qames I of Eng- 
land), 36, 82, 221, 233, 317-321, 324- 
327, 385. 

James VIII, the 'Old Pretender,' 113. 

Jarlshof, Shetland Islands, 294, 298, 299, 
300, 308. 

Jedburgh, 14. 

Jeffrey, Lord, 96; quoted, 64. 

Jervaulx Abbey, 242. 

John, King, 235, 242, 251, 374. 

Jones, Paul, 130. 

Keith, Mrs. Murray, original of Mrs. 

Bethune Baliol, 390. 
Keith, Sir Alexander, 109. 
Kelso, 5, 6, 7, 26, 150, 353, 358. 
Kentlworth, 272-289. 
Kenilworth Castle, 273, 275, 277, 281, 283, 
288, 289. 

Mortimer's Tower, 283, 284, 287. 

The Gallery Tower, 283, 284, 286. 

Caesar's Tower, 284. ; 

Leicester's Building, 284. 

Henry VIII's Lodgings, 285. 

The White Hall, 285. 

The Presence Chamber, 285. 

The Great Hall, 285, 287. 

Mervyn's Tower, 286, 287. 

The Pleasance, 287. 
Kenneth MacAlpine, 231. 
Kilpont, Lord, original of the Earl of 

Menteith, 225-228. 
Kilsyth, battle of, 233. 
Kinblethmont, 158. 
Kinfauns, Castle of, 379. 
Kinross, 268. 
Kirkcudbright, 130, 131. 
Kirk Yetholm, 6, 138. 8 
Kirkwall, capital of the Orkney Islands, 

303-309. 
Knox, John, 267, 380. 

Lady of the Lake, The, 12, 22, 23, 66-85. 
Lag, Castle of, 361. 
Laidlaw, William, 347, 348. 



410 



INDEX 



Lammermuir Hills, 218, 221. 

Lanark, 172. 

Lanercost Priory, 20, 44, 97. 

Lang, Andrew, quoted, 64, 214, 377. 

Langshaw, 260. 

Langside, battle of, 270, 271. 

Lasswade Cottage, 22, 25, 45, 346. 

Lauderdale, Duke of, 179, 180. 

Lanrick Mead, 71, 77, 78. 

Lay of the Last Minstrel, The, 21, 28- 

46, 348; quotation from, 24. 
Lediard Falls, 121, 195. 
Legend of Montrose, A, 4, 224-233. 
Leicester, Earl of (Lord Robert Dudley), 

373, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278, 280, 283, 

284, 285, 286, 287. 
Leicester's Commonwealth, anonymous pam- 
phlet, 276. 
Lennel, 7, 61. 
Leny, Falls of, 229. 
Lerwick, capital of the Shetland Islands, 

291-293, 296, 303, 311. 
Leslie, General, 225, 233. 
Leyden, Dr. John, letter to, 48. 
Liddesdale, raids into, 1, 14, 26, 137. 
Liege, 319, 343, 344, 345- 
Life of Napoleon, 372. 
Lincluden Abbey, 126, 127. 
Lindisfarne Abbey, 54-56. 
Lindsay, Sir David, 56, 58. 
Linlithgow, 58. 
Llangollen, Wales, 366, 367; the 'Ladies' of, 

367. 
Loch Achray, 12, 74. 
Loch Ard, 74, 192, 194, 195. 
Loch Arklet, 196. 
Loch Corriskin, 100. 
Loch Doine, 78. 
Loch Fyne, 231. 
Loch of Harray, 310. 
Loch Katrine, 11, 12, 66, 71, 74, 76, 78, 

101, 184, 187. 
Loch Leven Castle, 267, 268, 269, 359. 
Loch Linnhe, 226, 230, 231, 232. 
Loch Lomond, 12, 119, 120, 183-185, 196. 
Loch of the Lowes, 175. 
Loch Lubnaig, 77, 78, 193, 229. 
Loch Oich, 133. 
Loch Scavig, 102. 
Loch Skene, 176, 177. 
Loch of Sleapin, 102. 
Loch of Stennis, 310. 
Loch Tay, 379. 
Loch Vennachar, 12, 71. 
Loch Voil, 78, 189, 196. 
Loches, Castle of, 341, 342. 
Lockhart, John Gibson, 97, 347, 400; 

quoted, 48, 64, 214, 253, 317, 336, 366, 

371, 372, 377, 391- 



London, 316, 317, 320, 327, 334, 335. 
London Bridge, 325. 
Lord of the Isles, The, 100-105. 
Louis XI of France, 338, 339, 34©, 341, 343, 

344, 345- 
Lyulph's Tower, 98. 

Macallister's Cave, 102. 

MacDonald, Flora, original of Flora Mac- 
Ivor, 122. 

MacDonnel, Colonel Ronaldson, of Glen- 
garry, 123. 

MacGregor, Clan, 182-184. 

MacGregor, Helen, Rob Roy's wife, 195. 

Mackay, Charles, 198. 

Mac Vicar, Minister of St. Cuthbert's, 114. 

Maida, Scott's favourite dog, 123, note; 
371-375, 398. 

Major Oak, the, in Sherwood Forest, 239- 
240. 

'Making' of Sir Walter, the, 1-27. 

Malcolm Graeme, 68, 79, 84. 

Man, Isle of, 130, 331. 

Manor Water, vale of, 15, 160, 163. 

Marck, William de la, 342. 

Margaret, Lady, of Branksome Hall, 33, 
37, 41, 44 45- 

Marmion, 7, 8, 20, 47-65, 353; quotations 
from, 3, 8. 

Marquis of Annandale's Beef stand, 361. 

Marriott, Rev. John, 50. 

Mary, Queen of England, 274, 275, 326, 
335- 

Mary, Queen of Scots, 58, 81, 265, 266, 
267, 268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 275, 359, 385. 

Mathieson, Peter, 399. 

Mayburgh, 98. 

Meg Merrilies, 131, 137, 138. 

' Meikle-mouthed Meg,' story of, 36. 

Melrose, 33, 38-42, 45, 106, 255, 258, 265, 
266, 304, 347, 348, 352, 399- 

Menteith, Lake, 73. 

Mercat Cross, of Melrose, 261. 

Middleham Castle, 240, 241. 

Miller, A. H., quoted, 195. 

Millie, Bessie, original of Noma of the 
Fitful Head, 313, 314. 

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 15, 
25, 29, 31. 

Mitchell, Robert, 169, 180. 

Moddey Dhoo, legend of the, 334. 

Moffat, 172, 175, 176. 

Moffat Water, 175. 

Monastery, The, 4, 255-264, 348. 

Monkbarns (Hospitalfield), 153. 

Monmouth, Duke of, 170, 171, 179. 

Montrose, Duke of, 182, 185, 187, 196, 202. 

Montrose, the Marquis of, 225, 226, 228, 
232, 233; sword of, 233. 



411 



INDEX 



Morritt, John B. S., 89, 90, 91, 134, 197. 

Mortham Castle, 89, 94. 

Morton, The Regent, 202. 

Mount Sharon, 5. 

Mousa, broch of, 247, 300, 301. 

Mucklebackit, Saunders, 155-157. 

Multon, Sir Thomas de, of Gilsland, 21, 

369- 
Mump's Ha', 136, 137. 
Murdock, Duke of Albany, 129. 
Murray, Earl of, 10, 30. 
Murray, Sir Gideon, of Elibank, 36. 
Muschat's Cairn, Edinburgh, 210. 

Nasmyth, Sir James, 162. 

Naworth Castle, 20, 43, 44, 231. 

Neidpath Castle, 351. 

Nethan, the river, 172. 

Neville, Richard, Earl of Warwick, 282. 

Newark Castle, 35. 

Nith, the river, 126, 127, 357. 

Norham Castle, 7, 53, 56. 

Oakwood Tower, Stronghold of Wat of 

Harden, 3s. 
Oban, 230, 231. 
Ochil Mountains, 59. 
Odin, Stone of, 311, 313. 
Old Mortality, 166-181; Tennyson's 

opinion of, 167. 
Originals of Characters — 

Alasco, an Italian physician employed 

by the Earl of Leicester, 277. 
Lucy Ashton, Janet Dalrymple, 216, 

217. 
Lady Ashton, Lady Stair, 216, 217. 
Sir William' Ashton, James Dalrymple, 

Lord Stair, 215, 216. 
Julian Avenel, the Laird of Black Or- 

miston, 261. 
Mrs. Bethune Baliol, Mrs. Murray 

Keith, 390. 
Bevis, Maida, Scott's dog, 123, note; 

371-375. 398. 
The Black Dwarf, David Ritchie, 160. 
Josiah Cargill, Rev. Dr. Duncan, 353. 
Cleveland, John Gow, 313. 
Baron Cranstoun, George Cranstoun, 42. 
Effie Deans, Isabella Walker, 205-208. 
Jeanie Deans, Helen Walker, 205-208. 
Dandie Dinmont, James Davidson, 

137; Willie Elliott, 137; Mr. Laidlaw, 

X37- 
Meg Dods, Marian Ritchie, 350. 
Driver, a clerk of Andrew Crosbie's, 

142-143. 
Alan Fairford, Sir Walter Scott, 9, 362. 
Saunders Fairford, Walter Scott, father 

of Sir Walter, 9, 363. 



Rachel Geddes, ' Lady ' Waldie, 5, 338. 

Davie Gellatley, Daft Jock Gray, 118. 

Roland Graeme, 'The Little Douglas,' 
270. 

Dr. Gideon Gray, Dr. Ebenezer Clark- 
son, 391. 

Dirk Hatteraick, Yawkins, a Dutch skip- 
per, 131. 

Darsie Latimer, William Clerk, 9, 362. 

Alice Lee, Anne Scott, 376. 

Allan McAulay, James Stewart, 227, 
228. 

Flora Maclvor, Flora MacDonald, 122. 

Colonel Mannering, Sir Walter Scott, 
144. 

Margaret of Branksome, Williamina 
Stuart, 42. 

Matilda of Rokeby, Williamina Stu- 
art, 95. 

Earl of Menteith, Lord Kilpont, 227. 

Megl Merrilies, Jean Gordon, 6, 138, 
148-151. 

Saunders Mucklebackit, George Cargill, 
156. 

Tib Mumps, Margaret Carrick, 137; 
Margaret Teasdale, 137. 

Noma of the Fitful Head, Bessie Millie, 
313. 

Edie Ochiltree, Andrew Gemmels, 6. 

Jonathan Oldbuck (Monkbarns), Sir 
Walter Scott, 4, 146; George Con- 
stable, 4, 147 

Old Mortality, Robert Paterson, 166. 

Paulus Pleydell, Andrew Crosbie, 141- 
142; Adam Rolland, 143. 

Rebecca of York, Rebecca Gratz, 252, 
253. 

Sir Robert Redgauntlet, Grierson of Lag, 
361. 

Hugh Redgauntlet, one of the Herries 
family, 359. 

Rob Roy, Robert MacGregor Campbell, 
182. 

Dominie Sampson, George Thomson, 
140. 

Diana Vernon, Miss Cranstoun, 190; 
Miss Williamina Stuart, 191; Lady 
Scott, 191. 

Edward Waverley, Sir Walter Scott, 125. 

Madge Wildfire, Feckless Fannie, 213. 
Orkney Islands, Scott's visit to, in a light- 
house yacht, 100. 
Osbaldistone Hall (Chillingham Castle), 

189-190. 
Oxford, University of, 275, 276. 

Paterson, Robert, original of Old Mortality, 

166-168, 171. 
Peat, description of, 295-296. 



412 



INDEX 



Peebles, 350, 351. 352. 

Peel Castle, Isle of Man, 333. 

Penrith, 98. 

Peronne, 319, 343, 344- 

Perth, 10, 109, 226, 231, 378-382. 

Peveril Castle, 328, 330. 

Peveril of the Peak, 328-336, 404. 

Philiphaugh, 233. 

Pinkie, battle of, 257. 

Pirate, The, 290-315. 

Plessis les Tours, 337, 338, 339, 340, 341. 

Pleydell, Paulus, 13s, 140-143. 

' Popping Stone,' the, 20. 

Porteous, John, 203-204. 

Porteous Mob, story of, 205. 

Powis Castle, Wales, 368. 

'Prentice's Pillar, the, 370. 

Prestonpans, 4, 114, 115, 116, 147. 

Purdie, Tom, 398, 399. 

Purgstall, Countess of, 42. 

Queen Margaret's Bower, 58. 
QUENTIN DlJRWARD, 337-346; 347, 404- 

Raby Castle, 93. 

Raeburn House, 350. 

Ramsay, David, 319, 320, 323. 

Red Comyn, the, 191. 

Redgat/ntlet, 5, 9, 3SS-364, 404. 

Red Head, Cliffs of, 155. 

Reiver's Wedding, The, 37. 

Rene\ King, 392. 

Richard I, 43, 234, 239, 242, 248, 251, 365, 

369, 374. 
Richard II, 369. 
Richard III, 240, 282. 
Richmond Castle, 241, 242. 
Ritchie David, original of the Black Dwarf, 

15, 160. 
Robert III, 381, 384. 
Robin Hood, 237, 239, 245, 246, 252. 
Robin Hood's Well, 246. 
Rob Roy, n, 12, 182-198. 
Rob Roy's cave, 119, 197. 
Rob Roy's gun, 233. 
Robsart, Amy, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278, 280, 

284, 287. 
Roderick Dhu, 67, 68, 76, 77, 78, 70. 
Rokeby, 19, 86-95, 96, 104. 
Roman wall at Amboglanna, 136. 
Rosamond's Well, 373. 
Rosebank, 14. 
Rose, William Stewart, 50. 
Roslin Chapel, 369. 
Roslin Glen (vale of the Esk), 22, 23, 24, 

30, 45, 89, 94. 
Rotherham, 236. 
Rothsay, Duke of, 381, 384. 
Rushen, Castle, Isle of Man, 331, 332. 



Saddleback, 135. 

St. Abbs Head, 218, 220. 

St. Anthony's Chapel, Edinburgh, 8, 210, 
211. 

St. Bride, the chapel of, 77. 

St. Clair, William, 370. 

St. Cuthbert's Church, 114. 

St. Cuthbert's Holy Isle, 54-56. 

St. Giles Cathedral, 60, 199-203. 

St. John. Church of, Perth, 380. 

St. John, Valley of, 98. 

St. Leonard's Crags, Edinburgh, 8, 212. 

St. Magnus, Cathedral of, 304, 305, 306, 
307. 

St. Margaret's Loch, Edinburgh, 210. 

St. Mary's Loch, 35, 175. 

St. Ronan's Well, 346-354, 404. 

St. Thomas's Abbey (St. Ruth's), 151, 152. 

Salisbury Crags, the, Edinburgh, 7, 8, 60, 
210, 389. 

Sandy Knowe, 2, 51, 353. 

Scalloway, Castle of, 298, 302, 303, 309. 

Scalloway, village in the Shetland Islands, 
302. 

Scone, Palace of, no, 231, 379, 381, 385. 

Scott Country, the, limits of, 337, 346, 366. 

Scott, Anne, daughter of Sir Walter, 48, 
376, 400. 

Scott, Charles, son of Sir Walter, 48, 402. 

Scott, Daniel, brother of Sir Walter, 383. 

Scott, Miss Janet, aunt of Sir Walter, 2, 5. 

Scott, John, brother of Sir Walter, 15, 90. 

Scott, Lady (wife of Sir Walter), introduc- 
tion of, to Sir Walter, 17, 329; courtship, 
19, 20; marriage, 21; home at Lasswade, 
22, 23; reference to Dryburgh, 352, 353; 
sickness and death, 372, 376, 399. 

Scott, Michael, the wizard, 38, 41. 

Scott, Mrs. Maxwell-, granddaughter of 
Sir Walter, 396. 

Scott, Sophia, daughter of Sir Walter, 48, 
400. 

Scott, Thomas, brother of Sir Walter, 333. 

Scott, Sir Walter — 

Liddesdale raids, 1; residence at 
Sandy Knowe, 2; visit to Prestonpans, 4; 
his first pony, 4; at Kelso, 5; passes law 
examinations, 13; visit to English Lakes, 
15; to Gilsland, 16; meets Miss Carpen- 
ter, 17, 349; marriage, 21; quartermaster 
of Edinburgh Volunteers, 25 ; his memory, 
26; decides to abandon the practice of 
law, 28-30; Sheriff of Selkirk, 29; early 
poems, 30; Ashestiel, 48, 49; visit to High- 
lands, 72, 116; purchases Abbotsford, 
89; Clerk of Court of Session, 90; aided 
by Sir William Forbes, 95; later High- 
land excursion, ng, 120; visit from 
Joseph Train, 133; visit to Dumfries, 



413 



INDEX 



135; to English Lakes, 13s; salmon spear- 
ing incident, 139; at University of Edin- 
burgh, 139; visited by Irving, 145-146; 
experience as member of Edinburgh 
Volunteers, 158-159; visit to Hallyards, 
160; visit to Loch Skene, 175-177; visit 
to the Braes of Balquhidder, 188; clerk 
of Court of Session, 200; driving through 
Canongate, 209; suggests building the 
Radical Road, 210; guest at Studley 
Royal, 246; visited by Washington Irv- 
ing, 252; ' refreshing the machine,' 255; 
presentation to the Duke of Wellington, 
266; visit to Shetland Islands, 294, 298, 
311, 313, 314; familiarity with history 
and literature of England, 317; duties 
as clerk of the Court of Session, 346; 
residence in Edinburgh, 346; fondness 
for country life, 347; practices in case of 
Peter Peebles, 363; visit to Wales, 366; 
distressing change in personal affairs, 
371; announcement of authorship of 
Waverley Novels, 372; visit to Wicks of 
Baiglie, Perth, 378; feeling toward 
brother Daniel, 383; circumstances under 
which The Fair Maid of Perth was writ- 
ten, 386; paying off the debt, 387; writ- 
ings of the last five years, 388; importuni- 
ties of a creditor, 389; Theatrical Fund 
Dinner, 390; spirit of perseverance, 392; 
apoplexy and other ailments, 393; jour- 
ney to the Continent, 394; death, 394; 
personality of, 395; kindness, 397; gen- 
erosity, 398; conversation, 398; relations 
with family, 399, 400; creed, 400; ambi- 
tion, 401; failure of hopes, 402; relations 
with the Ballantynes, 403, 404; indis- 
cretion, 404; courage and final triumph, 
405. 

Scott, Walter, 'Beardie,' great-grand- 
father of Sir Walter, 37. 

Scott, Walter, father of Sir Walter, original 
of Saunders Fairford, 9. 

Scott, Walter, son of Sir Walter, 48, 401 , 402. 

Scott, Sir William, of Harden, 36. 

Scott, Sir William, of Buccleuch, 37. 

Seymour, Lord, 277. 

Sharp, James, Archbishop, 168-169, 180. 

Sharpe, Charles Kirkpatrick, 360. 

Sherwood Forest, 236, 237. 

Shetland Islands, visit to, in a lighthouse 
yacht, 100. 

Shortreed, Robert, 1, 14, 26, 137. 

Skene, James of Rubislaw, 52, 338, 392; 
quoted, 25, 26, 62, 138, 139, 176. 

Skiddaw, 135. 

Skye, Island of, 100, 102. 

Smailholm, 2, 3, 4, 30, 261, 347. 

Smellie, William, 141. 



Solway Firth, 126, 127, 355, 356, 357. 

Somerset, the Duke of, 277. 

Staffa, 102. 

Stennis, stones of, 310, 311. 

Stewart, Alexander of Invernahyle, n6, 

117, 118. 
Stewart, James, of Ardvoirlich, original of 

Allan McAulay, 188, 227, 228. 
Stewart, Patrick, Earl of Orkney, 298, 302, 

308, 309. 
Stirling Castle, 66, 78, 80-84, 381. 
Stonebyres Linn, 172. 
Strathgartney, 78. 
Stromness, village in Orkney, 310, 311, 

312,313. 
Stuart, Charles Edward, io, 109, in, 112, 

113, 114, n6, 120, 125, 358, 363. 
Stuart, Lady Louisa, 197, 214, 336, 364. 
Stuart, Miss Williamina (Lady Stuart- 
Forbes), Scott's first love, 17, 18, 23; 

original of Margaret of Branksome, 42; 

original of Matilda, 95. 
Studley Royal, 243, 246. 
Sumburgh Head, 294, 296, 297, 298, 300. 
Surgeon's Daughter, The, 389, 390. 
Sweetheart Abbey, 126, 127, 135. 
Swift, Life of, 91. 

Tales of the Crusaders, 365-370. 
Talisman, The, 21, 345, 365, 369-372. 
Tantallon Castle, 60, 61. 
Tay, the river, 109, no, 379. 
Teasdale, Margaret, original of Tib 

Mumps, 137. 
Tees, the river, 89, 92, 93, 94. 
Teith, the river, 229. 
Temple, the, London, 322, 323, 334. 
Terry, Daniel, 197, 375. 
Teviot, the river, 35. 
Thames, the, London, 320, 322. 
Thomas the Rhymer, 222. 
Thomson, George, original of Dominie 

Sampson, 140. 
Thomson, Rev. John, of Duddingston, 

220. 
Thoresby House, 238. 
Thorsgill, the river, 92, 93. 
Tillietudlem. See Craignethan. 
Tippermuir, battle of, 226. 
Tolbooth, Edinburgh, 9, 201-205, 233. 
Tours, 339, 341. 
Tower of London, 325. 
Train, Joseph, provides information used 

in The Lord 0/ the Isles, 103; in Guy 

Mannering, 132-135; in Old Mortality, 

171; in The Heart of Midlothian, 214. 
Traquair, Earl of, 108, 109. 
Traquair House, 13, 107, 108, log, 112, 

329. 



414 



INDEX 



Triermain Castle, ax, 97, 395. 

Triermain Castle Rock, 16, 98. 

Trossachs, the, 12, 66, 70, 71, 74, 75. 

Tully Veolan, 107-111. 

Turnberry Castle, 103. 

Tweed, the river, 258, 348-332, 396, 397. 

Twisel Bridge, 7. 

Two Drovers, The, 389, 390, 391. 

Ulls water, 97. 

Vaux, Sir Roland de, 97. 

Vernon, Dorothy, of Haddon Hall, 329. 

Villiers, George, first Duke of Buckingham, 
called ' Steenie,' 319, 322. 

Villiers, George, second Duke of Bucking- 
ham, 335. 

Waldie family, the, of Kelso, 5, 358. 
Waldie, 'Lady,' original of Rachel Geddes, 

5. 
Waldie, Robert, 5. 
Wales, 366, 367, 368. 
Walker, Helen, original of Jeanie Deans, 

205-208. 
Walker, Isabella, original of Effie Deans, 

205-208. 
Walker, Patrick, author of Lift oj Cameron, 

213. 
Wallace, William, 81. 
Wampool River, the, 358. 
Wark Castle, 62. 
Warrender, Sir George, 109. 
Warwick Castle, 281, 282, 283. 



Warwick, Earl of, 240. 

Warwickshire, 281. 

Wat of Harden, 35. 

Waverley, 8, 10, 106-125, 197. 

Welbeck Abbey, 238. 

Welshpool, 368. 

Westmoreland, 135. 

Whinnyrig, 357. 

Whitefoord, Colonel, 116, 117. 

Whitefriars (Alsatia), 323, 324. 

Whitehall, Palace of, 321, 322, 335. 

Wideford Hill, Kirkwall, 309. 

William the Conqueror, 241, 248, 250, 282, 

328, 373. 
William the Lion, 152, 155. 
Williams, Rev. John, Archdeacon of 

Cardigan, 366. 
Wolf's Crag, 220. 
Wolf's Hope, 222. 
Woodstock, 371-377. 
Woodstock, village of, 372; palace of, 373- 

375- 
Wordsworth, 16; letter to, 32; 35, 172. 
Wright, Guthrie, 57; quoted, 135. 
Wycliffe, Oswald, 88. 

Yarrow, the river, 175. 

Yawkins, Dutch skipper, original of Dirk 

Hatteraick, 131. 
Yetholm Loch, 260. 
York, Castle of, 250. 
York Minister, 251. 
York, city of, 234, 250. 
York Water Gate, 33a. 



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